


Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit Of Happiness

by casstayinmyass



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - American Beauty Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Artist John, Based On American Beauty, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bisexual Angelica Schuyler, Bisexual Thomas Jefferson, Cheating, Derogatory Language, Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Flirty Marquis de Lafayette, Gay John Laurens, Hand Jobs, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Homophobia, Infidelity, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Not First Person POV, Pansexual Marquis de Lafayette, Physical Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Fantasy, Slice of Life, Teen Romance, Teenager Alexander, Teenager John, Thomas-centric, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 21:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10907799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Hey there, sugar- didn't see you there! I suppose you're wondering just who the hell I am; this tall, stylish looker standing in the front yard of his nice suburban home, collecting the paper. Well, you're in luck, 'cause I'm gonna tell you.My name is Thomas Jefferson, and I fucking despise my life.Little did I know, I wouldn't make it much longer like this- had months, at most. Then again, if someone told me... would I have really given a shit?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Hamilton/LGBTQ+ inclusive version of American Beauty. If you think you know the ending, you don't- I changed it up a little, along with a few other things.

 

**Hey there, sugar- didn't see you there! I suppose you're wondering just who the hell I am; this tall, stylish looker standing in the front yard of his nice suburban home collecting the paper. Well, you're in luck, 'cause I'm gonna tell you.**

**My name is Thomas Jefferson, and I fucking despise my life.**

**See, it's easy to despise something you wake up repeating over and over again for thirty four years, without deriving any real enjoyment from it. Every day, I get up, trudge my exhausted ass over to the shower, and jerk off under the hot water (if my darling Angelica hasn't used said heated water all up). This is the high point in my day: jerking off. In the shower.**

**You see it, right?**

**Why I would kill to do anything but what I'm doing now? A loving father of a little shit we adopted named Alexander, who- for the record- hates me more than I hate myself, and a loving husband of a woman who would rather watch Sex and The City with her two sisters on a Friday night than have _actual_ sex with me. I may as well have put two wedding bands on my right hand, it touches my dick more than she does.**

**Little did I know, I wouldn't make it much longer like this. Then again, if someone told me... would I have really given a shit?**

* * *

"G'mornin'," Thomas smiled, brushing the hair from his wife's eyes. Angelica's eyes blinked open, eyelashes long and gorgeous in the morning light.

"Morning," she smiled back, and with a stretch, rolled on top of Thomas, letting her hair cascade down around his face. All she had on was a silky pink nightdress- god, she looked good in pink- and he could feel the warmth radiating from her core as she shifted herself down against him. She moved to kiss her husband, reaching down to touch him, and Thomas put his hands behind his head, revelling in the feeling. He let out a little gasp as Angelica lifted the covers, dipping her head down underneath to-

" _GET UP!_ Your damn alarm clock has been buzzing for seven whole minutes, Thomas!"

Thomas jolted awake, eyes snapping open to stare at the same bland white ceiling he always saw when he woke up.

"Did you hear me, Thomas?! Shut that thing off before I shut _you_ off!"

Thomas groaned, reaching over to silence his alarm, and realized he was painfully hard from that wet dream. Sliding out of bed shirtless with boxers, he trudged over to the shower with a bitter laugh- there was no way that dream was ever coming true.

Angelica rolled her eyes downstairs, turning her attention back to her coffee and the book she was reading, 'Common Sense,' by Thomas Paine. She was fascinated by history, and would have become an elementary school teacher like her sister Eliza, if their father hadn't have pushed her into the family real estate business. "A promised money-maker," he had assured her, "and you're the brightest and the wittiest of your sisters. You'll get things done."

Angelica sighed to herself, flipping a page. _Look at me now, dad,_ she thought, _trapped in a loveless marriage with a self absorbed asshole who looked good that one night, and a rebellious teenager who would rather hole up in his room writing than speak to me._

"Honey, did you use all the conditioner?!" Thomas called down from the running shower, horrified. His tendrils couldn't go a day without being conditioned, or they started to feel like steel fucking wool.

"I don't know, _baby_ , maybe you used it all as lube!" Angelica shot back up, ignoring his little cry of distress.

"Please, not while I'm eating," Alexander muttered, crunching his last bite of a bagel. The teenager was busily scrawling something down on some paper beside him as if he was running out of time, so Angelica just passed it off as a last minute homework assignment.

"Shut it and hurry up, Alex, or you'll be late again. One more strike from the school, and it's suspension."

"Oh no!" Alex mocked, and Angelica tossed her hands up, clearing his plate.

Next door, John Laurens got up for school, getting dressed. He had a very particular set of clothing: matching colours, shined shoes, and was always expected to tie his hair back. Perks of living in a strict household; not just any strict household, but one basically ruled over by his ex-military father, Henry Laurens.

Henry was a piece of work. Not even John's mother, Eleanor, dared cross him. Sometimes John forgot his mother was even there- as much as he loved her, she was as quiet and timid as a mouse nowadays, and he barely heard her voice anymore.

The door of his closet opened into a neat row of white and black shirts and pants, with accompanying ties; he was to look like a respectable young man. At his old school, John would wait until he left the house before changing into his baggy band shirts and jeans, but after Henry had found out?

Well... he didn't own any other clothes now.

He pulled back his row of shirts to smirk at the stack of playboy magazines he had back there. He knew his old man checked his room top to bottom all the time for weed, ever since he was busted for selling it and smoking it, so along with the bags of weed he currently had stashed there, he had to hide his masturbatory material somewhere.

"Mmm. Morning, sexy," he smiled, opening up to page four of a centerfold to take out and kiss the shirtless photo of Javier Munoz he had stashed in there. Hiding it again, he grabbed his coat and the sketchbook he recorded everything in, and opened his bedroom door.

"Morning, ma. Morning, pops," John smiled as he came down the stairs, tucking his sketchbook safely away into his schoolbag.

"You will address me properly, John," Henry said, looking up from his paper, and John swallowed, cursing himself for the slipup. He had had a late night last night trying to decide what to wear for his first day at his new school, that he didn't remember how to handle himself in the household.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"What's that you've got in your bag?" Henry went on, setting his paper down. John's pulse quickened a little, but he just smiled a little brighter.

"Just some work I thought I'd bring in to make a good impression on the teachers, sir."

"Hm," Henry mumbled, staring at John for a few more seconds. Behind him at the kitchen sink, Eleanor stood, eyes wide and unblinking. John looked from her to his dad in mortal fear he would ask to confirm, but Henry finally nodded, opening up his paper again. "Breakfast is ready. I'll give you a ride, just so you know where the school is. After today, you're on your own."

"Of course, sir. I appreciate that, sir," John nodded, coming down the stairs and taking a bite of the apple waiting for him. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Henry looked up sharply, glancing at Eleanor. "Are you expecting someone?" The tension built.

"No!" Eleanor was quick to whisper, "No, nobody, Henry."

John turned back in his chair to see, and Henry cleared his throat.

"You can get the door, John."

John stood compliantly, and opened the front door. There was a tall, built bald man standing next to a man with curly white hair, white far too early for a man this young, so it must be a drastic platinum. The tall one had a pleasant smile, and the smaller one was smirking.

"Hey there," the tall one said, "I'm George Washington." John admired his biceps- they were large and attractive, and John found himself committing his structure to memory to draw later.

"And I'm George Fredrick the third," the smaller one smiled, accent extravagantly British, "We've come to welcome you to the neighbourhood."

"Hey, thanks!" John grinned, "Yo, that's really nice of you guys."

"Our pleasure. Heard you moved out here all the way from South Carolina!"

"Yessir."

"Looks like you've got things set up around here real nice," Washington said, nodding at John, "This has always been our favourite house on the block. We would've bought it too, if George here wasn't so damn picky about size."

"Well, my dear," George Fredrick smirked, "Size _matters_."

"True," John laughed.

Just then, Henry approached the door, seeing who it was as John had failed to inform him thus far.

"Oh. Hello," he nodded, and George and George both stuck their hands out.

"We're the partners that live just up the street from you. Welcome to the neighbourhood!" they repeated, and Henry nodded slowly, ignoring the handshake.

"Sure. What're you selling?"

The two men paused, blinking.

"Uhh..."

"Ehm..."

"We're not... selling anything," Washington frowned.

"You said you were partners," Henry said expectantly, crossing his arms. George and George looked at each other, and John wanted to die of embarrassment.

In the car on the way to school, Henry shook his head. "Fucking fags, sons of bitches. Think they can shove their gay shit down our throats. Of course we move to a fucking street with fucking fags. God dammit."

Henry's sudden pound on the steering wheel caused John to jump slightly in the shotgun seat, but he regained composure quickly.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"What?" Henry barked.

"A shame, sir," John said a bit louder, clutching his bag a little tighter.

* * *

Thomas got to work, parking his boring Mercedes in his boring old parking spot.

"Look, I have an expensive car and a reserved parking spot," he told a homeless man sitting on a bench nearby. He then proceeded to give the man three hundred dollars in cash, and walked into the building with a flourish. "Okay, y'all. I'm here- no need to panic."

"I was out of my mind with dread, Thomas," James deadpanned, turning in his swivel chair. "Please, just sit down."

"Don't tell me to sit down, Jemmy, remember who petitioned for those swivel chairs in the workplace? Me. That was me."

"What does that have to do with an-"

"Shhh, not in the mood today for semantics," the tall southerner said, walking past the short man.

James Madison, the only thing Thomas had that was remotely close to a friend from college other than John Adams, was in the exact same life-hating position as him, but James was a little more reluctant to admit it. Despite his perpetual sickness, his wife, Dolley, at least gave him regular pussy, and they had a healthy relationship with mutual respect and probably mind blowing sex.

Okay, maybe not mind blowing, judging by the crestfallen look emblazoned on Madison's face all day, but still- the man could win a million bucks and still look like someone just ran over his cat. Anyway, no matter who it was or what their situation, the same was true for any relationship:

Healthy wife, healthy life.

"How are the boys?" his co-worker, John Adams, asked. Thomas glared at him.

"The _boy_ is the same as he's always been, John. Complacent and an asshole."

"Oh," John nodded absently, continuing to type away on his report, "Good... good to hear."

"How's the wife?" Thomas gritted out, wondering if someone could vomit simply from asking the same meaningless question too many times.

"Abigail's amazing," John turned fully, attention captured when talking about himself, "She just got home from a business trip, which she's been away for for twelve whole days, and-"

Thomas placed a phone book over his face, leaning back in his chair for a nap as John began to ramble.

* * *

"I wonder who that new boy is," Gilbert Lafayette smirked, leaning against the side of the high school. They lifted a cigarette to their lips, taking a drag, and passed it to Alexander, who took a drag as well as he squinted to look where John was perched on the bleachers.

That wasn't the kid who just moved next door to him, was it?

"Who the fuck are you looking at?"

"The freckled one," the french student laughed, "You see? He is staring quite intently this way."

"Yeah, you know why he's staring intently? 'Cause you're wearing _that_ skirt today."

"It is one of my best, non?" Laf admired themself, looking down at their purple miniskirt and white knee-highs, "I have been fucked by so many in this skirt."

"Like who?" Alex asked.

"Charles Lee, Samuel Seabury, Adrienne Noailles with a strap on-"

"Wait, back up- you let Charles _Lee_ fuck you? Ew."

"He has a big dick," Laf shrugged noncommittally.

"You guys! That dude's drawing something," their other friend, Hercules Mulligan, popped up between the two, and Alex nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Jesus, where'd you come from?" the latino yelped.

"I was spying on him," Herc muttered conspiratorially, pulling his beanie lower down his forehead, and Laf rolled their eyes over to where John was sketching from a distance.

"Well, if they are drawing anyone, they are drawing me," they blew an errant curl out of their eye that had come out of their bun, and batted their eyelashes, "And my beautiful long legs."

"Actually, it kind of looked like a turtle," Herc shrugged, and Alex stifled a laugh. Lafayette just grabbed the cigarette back, huffing and finishing it off as the bell went.

John spent another few seconds staring at Alexander before tucking his things away and following the crowds in.

* * *

"I am going to sell this house," Angelica told herself out loud.

"You are going to sell this house," Eliza reassured her over the phone.

"You are totally going to sell that house," Peggy chimed in through the three way call. Angelica sucked in a breath, said goodbye to her sisters, and got to work. She had exactly one hour to shape this place up, and it was killing her to see every sign outside that read, "Maria Reynolds Sold Another One!"

 _Maria Reynolds._ She owned the neighbourhood, it was no question. She was beautiful, successful, charming, and god, could she sell a house. Angelica hated her in public, and worshipped the very ground her glittery red heels clacked over in secret.

"I am going to sell this mother _fucking_ house," she told herself one more time, and rolled up her sleeves. Her signs were just fine- the slogan, 'Looking For A Mind At Work? Choose Angelica Jefferson to find your dream home!" was fine. It was fine! It wasn't spectacular, like Maria's sensual shot of her standing by a luxurious house that read, 'Stay' at the bottom.

Angelica scrubbed the countertop a little harder as she thought of this. Why was Maria so perfect?! Why did she have a perfect husband who always kissed her in public and bought her stuff and wasn't so fucking bored and out of it all the time?

"Fuck them," she growled, "I'm gonna sell this house. Why? Because I'm a badass."

An hour later, she showed the first couple around. "This is the dining room. There is so much you can do here-"

"Like eat?" the woman asked her, crossing her arms, and Angelica tried her hardest not to teach the bitch a lesson with four knuckles.

"Yes, that. But I was speaking from a design perspective, if you wanted to work with the neutral tones of the carpet and the walls. Now, out here... is the pool."

"It was supposed to look like a lagoon," the man scowled, "It just looks like a swamp."

Angelica sucked in a breath, holding her smile. "Just think of all the-"

"Things we can do with it, yeah," the woman snarked, "We came here for a house that was ready, that we didn't have to do _anything_ with."

Angelica deflated a little.

"Fuck," she said to herself later, standing alone in the living room. It wasn't her fault the houses she sold in this neighbourhood were shit! Who wants a dreary old suburban house like this one? The ones Maria sold were huge mansions, with fountains, and-

"Hey," Angelica snapped at herself, "Not your district, not your problem."

 Still, she couldn't help but mourn her loss and think of what diamond necklace James would buy Maria after her next sale. This got her thinking of the last time Thomas bought anything like that for her.

When they were first married, Thomas would spoil her all over the place. He would take her to fancy dinners, he would get her dresses- of course, Angelica would rarely accept these gifts, as she is an independent, hard working individual who can pay for her own luxuries, but it was the principle of the thing.

Speaking of luxuries, when was the last time she had sex with her husband, anyway?

Yes, it was true. Thomas had a big dick, and he was amazing in bed, which was great for their torrid, budding romance. But once you start to grow more distant from a person, they become less attractive. They adopted Alexander after Angelica told Thomas she couldn't have kids of her own. They got older, lived together for fifteen years, and now... Angelica could barely look at Thomas naked without rolling her eyes.

Of course, this had all the repercussions expected- she was sexually frustrated, just frustrated in general, and she would never be satisfied. Not with this lifestyle, anyway.

* * *

That night was the basketball game.

"Why is Alexander even on the damn basketball team?" Thomas asked, groaning, "First of all, he's short as fuck. Second, he hates sports."

"I don't know, but don't ask him that. He thinks he's making you proud by joining something other than the debate team."

"Like hell, he couldn't care less what I think of him. Besides, I was on the debate team in high school and college. Never lost a debate in my many years."

"Uh huh."

"Aw, shit."

"What? Traffic?"

"Nah, Downton Abbey is on tonight, now I'm missin' it."

"Do you even care about our son?!" Angelica shouted as her husband, "Like, at all?!"

"Of course I care about him, but he never makes an effort to open up to me!" Thomas shouted back as he pulled into the school parking lot, aggravated. "I ask him how his day went, he tells me to shove it. Okay, I ask him what he's writing, he tells me to go fuck myself." He shook his head. "Maybe it's an adoptive thing!"

"Don't make this about that," Angelica snapped.

"I am makin' it about that," Thomas muttered, "No biological son could hate his dad this much."

"He's just a teenager, going through a rebellious teenage phase, Thomas, it has nothing to do with adop-"

"A phase? You wanna know just how much hatred that kid looks at me with? The contempt in his eyes? What the fuck have I ever done to warrant such aggression?!"

Angelica gave him a stare. "You want me to list 'em off the top of my head?"

"Just get out of the car," Thomas snapped. The two walked from the parking lot inside, and took a seat in the bleachers. On the court, Alexander was warming up and chatting with his friends.

"Oh fucking hell," he muttered, turning, "My parents are here."

"They just want to support you, mon ami," Lafayette told him, smoothing out their blue and gold cheerleading uniform.

"No, they want to be able to say that they were here so that they can call themselves good parents." 

"You are being too cynical," Laf muttered, tightening their bun. "Hercules, how does my hair look?"

"You've sprayed it enough to break a chunk off, so sure, it looks real good, Laf," Herc nodded, tugging his jersey over his head.

"I don't need your sass, I was simply asking," the french cheerleader sulked.

The whistle was blown, and Alexander was dashing down the court, passing to Hercules, passing to Lee, and getting it in the net on the first try.

"Shit," Angelica remarked from their seat, "He's actually pretty good."

"Mmm," Thomas mumbled, not really paying attention. Alexander got two more points for his team, but it was only during half time that Thomas began to wake up as the announcer introduced the school's cheer team.

"Give it up, for Monroe High's own bouncing, beautiful Revolutionaries!"

The team of cheerleaders all got into position, and Thomas boredly scanned over them. They began a dance, and suddenly, someone was suspended in the air, doing a triple basket toss and landing it perfectly in the arms of the rest of the group. This grabbed Thomas' attention, and he sat up further in his seat, his eyes trained on this one particularly talented student. They had curly hair tied back in a tight bun, the beginnings of a goatee, winged eyeliner, full, gorgeous lips, an athletic body with a defined abdomen, and legs long and beautiful under that short, short skirt.

"Oh fuck," Thomas whispered, chomping down hard on his bottom lip. Everyone in the room seemed to disappear in that second- all he could see was this one cheerleader, every fluid stride of their body, every bend, every high kick that exposed what was under that skirt. The fantasy got even more intense as Thomas imagined them alone on the court, in a gymnasium only occupied by the two of them, putting on a private show.

 They would lift their top a little, winking his way, and make a grinding motion before doing a perfect round off. Then, they would begin to lift their skirt up, inch by inch, dragging their hand up their thigh as their lips parted and their eyelids fluttered shut-

"Why aren't you clapping?!" Angelica jolted Thomas out of his fantasy, and he began to clap in a daze as the team all took a bow together.

_Fuck. Shit. Fuck._

After the game, which Alex's team won by sixteen points, the teenager and his friends walked out.

"I wonder if that boy was in the audience," Laf wiggled their eyebrows.

"Drawing more turtles," Herc added.

"Maybe," Alex shrugged absently, "I didn't really pay attention to the audience."

Thomas and Angelica approached them as they exited the school, and Angelica wrapped Alex in a big hug.

"You were amazing, honey!" she squealed, and Alexander feigned a smile.

"Thanks, mom."

"Yeah... you were... a real star," Thomas nodded, eyes never breaking away from Lafayette. Alexander frowned at him, looking between his dad and his friend, but Laf just smirked Thomas' way.

"Alexander, it is a shame you have never introduced me to your father before now," they smiled, holding out a hand, and Thomas shook it. Herc laughed into Alex's shoulder, and Alex made a disgusted face.

"Okay, ew. We're gonna go for pizza."

"Where are you going? Do y'all need a ride?" Thomas asked quickly, and Alexander made another face.

"No! Fuck off."

"I can drive you three if you'd like," Angelica tried to swoop in, but Alex gave her a glare so withering she backed off.

"See you later, Mr. Jefferson," Laf licked over their lips a little, and gave a little wave. This was very unusual for Thomas- he was normally the one to be flirting and rendering others speechless with his charm and good looks, but the tables had been turned... and it was fucking refreshing.

Thomas had to be dragged back to the car by his wife, open-mouthed and gawking at Lafayette's ass.

"What the fuck?! What were you _thinking_?" Alex hissed at Laf, who just let out a flirty laugh.

"Pardonez moi, but I think your father is hot. Also, I think he has not had sex with your mother in many, many weeks," they said, and Herc snorted in agreement. Alex shook off the creepy feeling he had, and walked with his friends to the nearby pizza place.

It didn't mean anything in the long run, not with Laf's track record.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night, John flipped through the pages in his book, over the sketches of turtles, some detailed, some doodled, over the meticulous sketches of everyday people and everyday objects.

He flipped to the most recent- the turtle that had erased itself into becoming Alexander, his next door neighbour. The guy was really hot, and John loved the expressiveness in his eyes. If only he could get up closer, he could really capture them perfectly...

He had to get his clothes on, and get ready for the real estate gala gig tonight he was working. Grabbing some shit from the closet and pocketing it in case, he got his suit and bow tie on, and slicked his unruly hair back into a frizzy ponytail.

At the gala, Angelica arrived with Thomas. They were dressed their best (or as best as they made the effort to be), and thank goodness for that, as immediately upon entering, they came face to face with none other than...

"Maria Reynolds," Angelica squealed, coming over, "And James! It's amazing to see you here tonight!"

"What an honor," Thomas said, trying not to sound too sarcastic for risk of being beaten over the head with his wife's purse.

"Yes," Maria smiled, "Angelica, I love your pantsuit."  

_Oh my god, Maria Reynolds loves my pantsuit._

Angelica gave a huge, bordering on manic grin. "Hey, thanks! Thanks, I like your dress... but then again, everyone always loves your dresses, you dress fabulously."

"I think everyone's trying to get _underneath_ my dresses," Maria winked, and Thomas nodded, quirking his head.

"I can see why."

Angelica gasped. "Shut _up_ ," she hissed, and swallowed, forcing out a laugh. "Yeah! Feel you there, girl."

"Shut up, she says," Thomas said aloud, shocking Angelica, "Shut up. Okay, lamb- I'll do whatever you want me to. It'll be like I'm _not even here_."

With that, the tall man turned on his heel, and sauntered over to the bar. The opposition handed James her cocktail, and took Angelica's arm in comfort, walking with her.

"Can I get you a drink? You seem really stressed."

"God, you have no idea," Angelica muttered, trying not to swoon at the bodily contact. _Wait, what?_ She was supposed to hate Maria Reynolds, not...

Angelica swallowed, following the seductive real estate agent to a private table.

Over at the bar, Thomas held his head in his hands. After a minute, heard a voice from behind him.

"You've barely had three pints of that stuff, and you already look completely trashed," someone said, and Thomas looked up at a younger man with freckles.

"How do you know what I've had to drink?" Thomas grumbled, "I could be outta my mind drunk right now."

"You're not. I know what a drunk guy looks like."

Thomas scoffed, and the boy set down his tray of Sam Adams, holding out a hand.

"I'm John Laurens," he said, "I'm your new neighbour, just moved here with my parents." Thomas smirked a little.

"Well, John Laurens... I'm Thomas Jefferson," he picked up the shot glass just slid over to him and lifted it in cheers, "Biggest human disappointment."

"Talk to my dad, I'm sure he'd disagree that I've won that title." Thomas laughed, and John adopted a sly look. "Hey... you look like you party. Do you party, bro?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you party?" John insisted, "Like... get high?"

Thomas stared for a long time, then clucked his tongue.

* * *

About four drinks in, nobody would guess that Angelica and Maria were professional rivals. Even they seemed to forget it, as they got tipsier with every glass.

"I... I may seem like I hate you," Angelica confessed to Maria, "But... but secretly, I think you're an amazing real estate agent."

"You th...think so?"

"Yes! You sell every house! You're a _legend_! You've..." Angie sighed. "You've got a perfect husband, and a perfect life."

"I don't know, your husband seems pretty perfect to me," Maria giggled, and Angelica huffed.

"If only you got to know him."

Maria's smile faded, and a sobering look crossed her face. "It's the same with James, you know."

"What?"

She cleared her throat. "It's the exact same. We look like a happy couple. But he's..." Maria sucked in a breath, "He's not all he seems." She looked around, careful that nobody was watching or listening in, then pulled down her dress a little to show Angelica the bruises.

"Oh my... oh my god," Angelica slurred.

"I'm okay, though... we may look like power couple of the neighbourhood, but, um..." 

"I... never would have guessed," Angie shook her head.

"Nobody would have," Maria mumbled, stirring the olive in her cocktail.

"We... we need to stick together," Angelica hiccupped, "Us girls. The gossip in the real estate business is insidious, we've... gotta have each others' backs."

"I couldn't agree more," Maria nodded, staring into Angie's eyes, and god, Maria looked so helpless...

"I would love nothing more than to sit down with you and just... talk. About the business. About your work. About how you managed to become so successful," Angelica sighed, and Maria smiled genuinely.

"We'll set something up."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah."

Angelica felt her lower lip tremble. She really had had too much to drink.

* * *

"I just... it would be nice to feel boobs again once in a while, y'know?" Thomas laughed, inhaling from a joint, "I kind of forget what they feel like."

"Yeah. Yeah, I totally get it, man," John smiled, taking a drag on his own joint, "I mean, no I don't, 'cause I'm gay as fuck, but..."

"Yeah?" Thomas wiped his eyes.

"Yep. My father's a strict homophobic asshole, so I gotta pretend I'm not, but fuck... all I want to do is suck dick all day long. Not that... all gay guys wanna... fuck, I'm high."

"Oh my god," Thomas collapsed against the brick wall in laughter, "I'm bi, so I kind of know what you mean. I had a preference for guys when I was growing up, and I was like..." he let out a loud laugh, "The bottom of all bottoms. But then I met Angelica out shopping one day. She was real young at the time, out on the town late at night. Some guy was hitting on her and her sister, so I swooped in and pretended we were dating to save her. And... then we actually started dating, because she was the most beautiful fucking thing I had ever seen." He shook his head, letting out a bitter scoff. "Anyway, my wife fucking hates me now. You probably saw that in there... but how could I not say something about that Reynolds woman?"

"I mean, I know," John nodded, dragging again, "See those curves? I can appreciate nice curves."

"Yeah, yeah, exactly..."

Suddenly, the back door opened, and the manager came out, glaring at John.

"What are you doing back here, Laurens?! There are drinks to be served!"

"Mr. Cornwallis?"

"Yes? What is it?!"

"I quit," John laughed, and Thomas' eyes widened as the door was slammed.

"How do you do that?!"

"Do what?"

"J-just... not give a shit?" Thomas murmured, in awe. 

"I give a shit," John shrugged, "Just, about other things. More important things."

Thomas let that sink in, and swallowed. "But... you said your dad's strict. What's he gonna think when he finds out you quit your job?"

"This job's just a front. My real income is from this stuff," he dangled the bag of weed.

"You... _sell_ drugs?"

"Yeah. Gotta get money somewhere if I want to become a struggling artist."

"Shit," Thomas rubbed a hand over his face, "You don't seem like the type of kid."

"I get that a lot. If you ever want any more... you know where to find me," John grinned. Thomas lifted his joint in acknowledgement, but before he could take another hit, the door opened once again.

"Thomas!" It was Angelica. "I want to go home now."

"O-okay..."

"Now," Angelica growled, and shifted her attention to John. "Who's this?"

"This is... John Laurens, in the p-place to be," Thomas burst out laughing, and John collapsed into him in a fit of giggles.

"A-two pints of Sam Adams, but I'm working on three," John snorted, making a beat against the wall.

 Angelica rolled her eyes at the giggling men.

"Come on, Thomas. You're not in college- let's go."

"Yeah, I've gotta get home too," John announced, grinning, "My pops'll be wondering where I am. See you around, Mr. J."

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, watching John, "Yeah." Noticing Angelica stumble ahead of him to the car, he assumed he would be taking the wheel- hopefully there weren't many cops out tonight.

* * *

Laf had themself draped lengthwise across both Alex and Herc on the Jeffersons' couch, half watching the show they had on. The three were sharing a bag of marshmallows, gossiping about shit and commenting on how hot the lead actor was, when the door unlocked.

"Shit," Alexander muttered, "They're home. Let's go up to my room."

"I don't know, mon ami... I should say hi to your father, non?" Laf smirked.

Alex scowled at his friend, who simply gave a pouty shrug, getting up.

"I do not want to be rude." Laughing, the French student watched Alex plop back down on the couch in an angry huff, stealing the bag from Hercules, who was particularly engrossed in the show.

Thomas and Angelica came in, the former going straight to the kitchen. He had dry mouth, and he needed some water badly to ease that and his dizziness.

"Alexander, we're home!" Angelica called wearily. Thomas opened the door to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water, but when he closed it, Lafayette was there waiting for him, leaning against the wall suggestively. Their curls were falling loose out of their bun, their lips plump and pink and sending the Virginian into a complete meltdown. Thomas gulped, eyes wide, and Laf maintained their smirk.

"Mr. Jefferson... you look good. A little more relaxed since last I saw you, hm?"

"Mmm," Thomas replied, fumbling for a glass. He regained his composure, then his charm. "Matter of fact, doll, I've just smoked some grade A shit, don't tell my wife."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of telling your wife anything, monsieur," Lafayette said slyly, eyes dropping a little lower to Thomas' chest. As Laf stared, Thomas was hit with a fantasy. His lips were on theirs, the soft smacks of their mouths against each other the only audible sounds, besides Laf's gentle keening. Thomas tugged their hair back... Laf growled, nipping at Thomas' lip, beginning to massage his bulge, and-

"Stop trying to seem cool, Jefferson," Alex came into the kitchen, fists balled, "You probably smoked a hand rolled cigarette and thought it was dope cause you're such a lightweight."

"Excuse me, that's _dad_ , or 'father' to you," Thomas frowned at Alexander, "And I got it from a reputable guy, the guy nex-" Suddenly, he paused. John had said his father was strict, so he didn't want to blow his cover to anyone, much less a peer. "Yeah well, I got it from a legit guy."

"Wow, you're such a badass," Alex waved his hands, "I revere you. My god, you bought weed- you're my hero, dad." He made a sour face, muttering, "You must be outta your goddamn mind."

With that, Alex grabbed Laf and Herc by the arms as Angelica entered the kitchen.

"Herc and Laf are staying the night, mom."

"Sure, honey," Angie nodded, and Thomas spewed his water all over the counter. Alex rolled his eyes.

"Ya might wanna be a little more subtle with mom in the room?" Alexander snapped, giving him the finger, and the three teenagers went up the stairs to Alex's room. Angelica looked up, around, and over to Thomas.

"Hm? What?"

"Nothing. He's just being a little dick again," Thomas said through gritted teeth, and Angelica frowned at him, taking off her heels and rubbing her sore feet. The tall man shifted on the bar stool at their ceramic island, staring at his wife as she began peeling layers of clothing off. He was already aroused... maybe if he doled out the sweet talk-

"I'm gonna go call my sisters," Angelica sighed, fighting to keep Maria Reynolds out of her mind's eye, and Thomas banged his head against the table, messy mane of curls drooping around him.

Upstairs about half an hour later, Lafayette was sprawled across Alex's bed in their panties, painting their nails a shiny purple. Herc was cross legged on the ground sewing everyone's gym shorts, and Alex flicked through his phone on the carpet. He was pretending to scroll through his instagram, but instead, he was thinking of the kid next door.

Why was the boy always staring at him? Alex didn't particularly mind getting stared at by hot guys, and it was rare he caught the attention of said hot guys with Laf around... This guy was pretty hot, right? Well, he'd never seen him up close before... but he had nice hair from a distance, and a pretty good body, as far as "sensitive artist" type bodies went. Shit- he lived next door, and Alex didn't even know his name.

Laf turned down the music they were playing after a minute, and let out a little humph.

"You know Alexander, your father is quite attractive- and that is saying a lot, coming from someone who has seen a lot of beaus."

"Oh god, really don't need to hear this anymore, Laf."

"I mean, I bet he doesn't even have a dad bod, I can tell by his magnificent arms, he works out."

"Kay, look. To you, he's just another dude who wants to fuck your brains out. To me? He's my pathetic _father_. That's weird."

"Not weird for me," Laf shrugged, and capped their polish, sliding off the bed. "You know, I have had the dirtiest thoughts about him?"

"Laf, please-"

"Shit, please don't let this get graphic," Herc muttered, trying to focus on his sewing.

"I bet he has a huge cock. He is tall, mon dieu, it only makes sense."

"It got graphic."

"I am literally gonna vomit all over you, you sick French asshole-"

"Mmmm, speaking of assholes, I would let him simply wreck mine. First, I would suck him off, then I would sit on his big fat dick and fuck him until his eyes rolled back in his head-"

Suddenly, they all heard a creak at the door. Their heads whipped around, and Alex glared at Laf.

"Great, look what ya did. He's got expectations now."

Herc crawled over cautiously, opening the door a crack... to find nobody.

"Hm. Must have been a ghost," Laf smiled, and Alex tossed a pillow at them as Herc let out a loud laugh.

Thomas bit his fist from the closed bathroom door beside Alex's room. He most certainly had a raging boner now, after overhearing that particularly descriptive conversation, but there was no way he was getting any tonight. He would just ignore it, and go to bed, like a good dad who totally didn't want to plow his teenaged son's sexy friend.

Alex looked out his window, trying to ignore his friend.

That's when he saw it... or, him.

"Holy fuck," Alex remarked, and Laf chuckled.

"Alright, mon ami, I will stop-"

"No. Remember that guy from school?"

"The one sketching the turtles?"

"The one sketching _me_?" Laf corrected their other friend, "Ah, oui."

Alex pursed his lips. "Well, he lives next door to me. And I think he's watching us right now."

Lafayette jerked their head up, and fluffed their loose bun, batting their eyelashes. "He is, hm?" Going over to the window, they lifted their top a little, exposing their defined abdomen and making duck lips John's way. "Better give him a show, then." Herc began to make stupid faces between Laf's legs, and Laf started to wiggle their hips a little, practically humping the window in their black panty-shorts. Across the way, John narrowed his eyes, moving his head a little so he could focus his line of sight straight on the Peurto Rican sitting at the foot of the bed, eyes trained on his phone. John smiled a little, sketching the few lights hairs that were coming in as a goatee around Alexander's mouth, next sketching the stringy black strands falling out of his ponytail around his face.

Watching Alexander's concentration through his two crazy friends, his smile grew. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door, and quickly scrambled up to shut his curtains.

"John?"

"Yes, sir!" John got up, opening his bedroom door.

"You know I don't like locked doors in this house, boy," Henry said sternly, and John nodded, placing his hands behind his back and kicking his sketch book under his bed.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir, I was tired and I forgot."

Henry nodded slowly. "I'm gonna need that sample from you."

"Right," John nodded, taking the container from his dad. He needed to provide him with a urine sample every month to ensure he was staying clean... John, of course, had a way around it, but for now, he smiled at his dad.

"Goodnight, sir."

"Night," Henry mumbled, but as he turned, he paused. "You know, John..." John inclined his head, waiting, but after a second, his father just closed his mouth. "Well... goodnight, son." Then he walked off to his room.

John watched, holding his breath, then opened his curtains in his own room a little to find Alex at the window, staring right back at him curiously as his friends fought over a remote behind him. John was caught off guard, but he offered a small wave and a lopsided smile. Alex just stared a while longer curiously, then closed his curtains.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas stared at that bland, white ceiling as Angelica slept soundly beside him. He pictured that look Alexander's friend had given him when they met... he pictured how their ass looked in that pleated skirt... then he pictured an entirely new scene. Lafayette was waiting for him on a bed, covered in nothing but rose petals. Thomas approached, discarding his jacket, and Laf moaned softly, spreading their long legs for Thomas. Thomas' hand got closer and closer to where Laf needed him most, and the southerner could feel his own cock throbbing at the sight- Laf needed him, wanted him badly, and Thomas knew he could take care of the horny teenager.

"Mmmm," Thomas groaned, stroking himself quickly under the sheets. He needed to come; he was so close... so, so close...

The light flicked on, a glaring interruption to his fantasy.

"What are you doing?" Angelica asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Hm?" Thomas opened one eye, disconcerted at the sudden brightness.

"You were masturbating!" she admonished.

"I... I was not," Thomas paused the fist around himself, holding his breath.

"Yes you were, you were jacking it!"

"Okay, fine," Thomas snapped, sitting up and crossing his arms with an aggravated noise. "You know what? I was. I was jerking off, Angelica. I was fucking my fist, I was so fucking close to coming too, and if you hadn't have turned the damn light on and started naggin' me, I'd be three hundred percent happier right now. Oh but shit, you wouldn't understand- you seem to enjoy livin' like a _nun_."

"You think you're the only one who's sexually frustrated here?" Angelica asked in exasperation, throwing the covers off of herself and getting out of bed.

"Oh, you are? Then come on over and hop on, darlin', I'm ready!" Thomas snarked, gesturing to his erection.

"You are such an asshole," Angelica gritted out.

"Fuck this," Thomas shook his head, "You can't tell me what to do anymore. I will jerk off whenever I god damn well want to. I will talk to whoever I want to, I will _do_ whatever I want to, because I am a _grown ass man_ in control of my own life." With that, he flipped over, and tugged the covers up to his chin petulantly. "Turn the light off when you're done _moping_."

As he closed his eyes, he began to smile. That felt good. That felt really, really good.

* * *

_Alright,_ Thomas thought to himself the next morning, slipping into an old tank top that hugged his pecs and some old college sport shorts _, it's time to live my best life, unapologetically._

He hyped himself up in the mirror, admiring the way his biceps would ripple when he flexed. Sure, he was hot, but he was about to become even hotter- Laf would come in their pants the next time they saw him. Kissing his arms, Thomas jogged his way downstairs for his morning run. He was a God. A specimen of the male form. A-

"Ow, ow, oooh fuck!" he shouted, rubbing his ass after tumbling down the last four steps.

"Ah, it wouldn't be morning if dad didn't fuck up," Alex deadpanned, finishing a mug full of black, sugary coffee. Thomas glared, standing back up.

"Where," he cleared his throat, "Where're your friends?"

"They went home early," Angelica offered.

"I smuggled them out before you could add Lafayette in their sleeping panties to your creepy ass spank bank," Alex bit, and Angelica turned to her husband, horrified.

"What?!"

"Again, little shit being a little shit," he laughed, trying to save himself. Then he grabbed a bottle, and took off out the front door before anything else could be used against him. As he started at a good pace, he realized just how much he missed running- he really did have a runner's body, unlike James and John Adams, who he used to run with. His coworkers and friends were excellent company, but shit runners. _No one to slow him down now._

He ran down the street, and suddenly heard voices behind him.

"Oh, Mr. Jefferson!"

"Tom! Over here!"

Thomas turned around, jogging on the spot, and saw George and George, aka, the perfect running partners, waving to him as they ran as well. Thomas grinned- things may really be looking up.

When he got to work, he was in a solid mood- even James was unsettled by it.

"So. Did Angelica finally sleep with you again?" the fellow Southerner asked, astonished.

"I'm far past that shit, Jemmy. I could care less if she opened her legs to me again in this lifetime- I've got more important things to worry about."

"Like not catching a deadly illness and succumbing to it?" James asked dryly, coughing into his sleeve.

Thomas patted his shoulder. "Like living my life."

Madison and Adams turned to one another, squinting as Thomas pranced past them.

"Think he's on drugs?"

"Oh, it's definitely drugs."

Thomas walked right into his office, sat down at his desk for a productive day of work... and blinked, hit full force with a revelation.

"My god," he said aloud, then shot back up, walking his ass right into his manager's office. Now, Thomas Jefferson despised his manager maybe even more than he despised his son, but what he was about to do inspired glee beyond belief in him.

"Burr," he smiled as he walked on in. Aaron Burr looked up from his paperwork, raising an eyebrow.

"I assume you need time off, if you're coming to see me personally. Take it, I don't care."

"Matter of fact, sugar loaf, I am gonna take some time off," Thomas mused, walking around Burr's office and admiring all the nerdy history paraphernalia on display, "A whole fuckton of time."

Burr sat forward in his chair. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused," Thomas brushed off, and sat down in the chair opposite a shocked Burr, slinging his legs over the arm with a dramatic sigh. "Now. I've come to discuss the terms of my resignation."

Burr stared at him, not moving a muscle.

"Your resignation."

"Mhmm."

Burr looked to the corner of his desk, flipping open his calendar calmly. "I'm sorry, it's not April the first today."

"No, it's the fifteenth of kiss my ass," Thomas smirked, tossing his arms up behind his head languidly and almost giggling at Burr's dropped jaw. "Burr, I've had an epiphany-"

"You've lost your mind, Thomas."

"-A... spiritual enlightenment, if you will. See, last night, my wife caught me jerking off-"

"Sweet Jesus," Burr lifted his hands to his face.

"-And proceeded to figuratively castrate me. Then it hit me- why should I let someone castrate me?! Figuratively or literally?!"

"Umm..." Burr began to point out, but was once again cut off.

"I said to myself, fuck this shit. I am going to live the American dream. Now, what is that? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Americans fought for these ideals- why should we settle for less?"  Thomas got up, tossing his magenta coattail back. "Why should _I_ settle for less? So, Mr. Burr, sir- I want one year, full pay with benefits."

Burr let out a high pitched laugh. "Like hell. Sit the fuck down, Jefferson."

"Okay. I'll just expose the dirt I've got on you and Mark's wife, Theodosia."

"Wait- how the hell-?"

"The gossip in this fucking firm is insidious," Thomas hissed with a devilish smile, "And a lot of the time, serious TMI. Do you know I now know Adams has a boil the size of a quarter on his left ass cheek? Who the fuck leaked that information?"

"Thomas," Burr rubbed his temples, clearly perplexed.

"I call the shots now. And I say one year with benefits or I leak the affair. Capishe?"

Burr glared up at Thomas for a very long time. "Fine," he growled, knuckles whitening.

"Good little doggie," Thomas winked, leaving Burr to clench his jaw and sit silently. When Thomas emerged, everyone began clapping and congratulating him. The Virginian bowed a couple of times, beaming widely, then went to his office and grabbed his things. As he was walking out, James stood up, holding out a hand.

"It's been a journey, Thomas."

Thomas shook his best friend's hand. "That it has, Jem. That it has. I still get to borrow your country club membership on my birthday, right?"

"Uhh... well, I don't see why no-"

"Amazing! And John. Oh, I'm gonna miss seein' you every day too," Thomas clapped the stout man on the back, "I'll catch up with you over coffee sometime, and continue liking Abigail's pictures on facebook of your kids as if I don't think they look like little reptilian hybrids. Catch y'all later!"

And with that, he was out for good.

* * *

Angelica was tired of living like this. It was straining on her health, her happiness, and above all, her productivity. Thomas complained about celibacy, but hey- she wouldn't really object if he just rolled over one night and fucked her senseless. Honestly, she could use a little spontaneity in her life right now.

Walking down the street to the house she was working on, she passed another sign with Maria all over it, her own smaller one next to it. She checked the time, wondered when 1:00 would come around. She was oddly nervous to meet Miss Maria Reynolds again...

When 1:00 finally came around, Angelica headed to the restaurant she would be meeting Maria at. Thomas hadn't responded to any of her texts, so there was no point keeping her phone on- she shoved it in her bag, and got up when her opponent approached.

"Maria! Good to see you again," she smiled, and Maria smiled back.

"It is. You look beautiful."

Angie blushed. "Oh god... it's an old skirt. Anyway, look at you! Red really is your color."

"Come on, you can say it- it's all I wear," Maria laughed, and her laugh made Angelica's heart clench.

"Still doesn't mean you're not gorgeous in it."

It was Maria's turn to blush, and they both sat down at their table.

"Cutting to the chase... you said you wanted to hear about my secret to success?"

"Yeah, it would be nice."

"Well, Mrs. Jefferson... to be successful, one must project an image of success. That's why I never let anyone see my weakness- and underneath my public layer, I've got a lot of weaknesses, Angelica... I don't see James as a liability, with all that he's done to me. I see him as a man I can overcome with success."

"Shit," Angie murmured.

"I guess I've thought about that since I started," Maria snorted, "Really, all I'm doing is faking. Everything."

"But you're still amazing at selling houses!"

"Yes, but so are you, Mrs. Jefferson."

"You can call me Miss Schuyler," Angelica whispered, "If it's more comfortable."

Maria quirked an eyebrow. "Is... that an invitation?"

"I..." Angelica stopped to consider herself for a second, then had the realization. "I guess it is," she breathed. Their fingers brushed as they both reached for the rolls, and Angie sucked in a breath as Maria sent a wicked smirk her way. 

Where was the closest motel?

* * *

"And then he told me I was going too fast on him, that he was going to come too soon," Laf explained, and Herc shovelled another forkful of mystery meat into his mouth eagerly.

"Yeah?"

"And then, after he growled my name out like an animal, he said-" Laf paused, pouting. "Alexander, mon ami, are you listening?"

"Hm?"

"I am certain you would've weighed in by now with an opinion or three," the French student deadpanned.

"Sorry, no, wasn't listening," Alex murmured, not looking away. The guy next door was over there, back where he was the other day, sketching. Did the guy do anything else? Seriously. It was strange.

"It is him!" Laf shrieked, following Alex's sight, "Come, come."

"What? Wait wait _wait_ -"

Herc and Laf both walked John's way, so Alex was forced to follow. When they approached John, the freckled, curly haired boy got up, sticking one hand in his pocket.

"Hey."

Alex was rendered speechless. Shit. This close up, he was more than just the weird artist next door- he was incredibly good looking. Like... be all and end all good looking. Like, a bajillion heart eyes good looking.

"I'm John Laurens," he gave that lopsided smile again. "I know that you're Gilbert Lafayette, you're Hercules Mulligan, and... you're Alexander Hamilton."

Laf beamed. "I see you have been paying attention, mon cher!"

"You been spying on us?" Herc asked, getting dead serious. John laughed, slapping him on the back amiably.

"Why waste time spying when you could be tryin', am I right?!" he asked, and Herc exploded into laughter, even though John had no idea what had just come out of his own mouth.

"Nice to meet you," Alex finally squawked out, "I'm Alexander Hamilton."

"He knows, mon ami," Laf smiled.

"Oh," Alex replied nervously, "Um. Wow. You're cute as fuck up close."

John's eyebrows raised to his hairline, but Alex kept babbling.

"Sorry. Wow, I know I was totally a dick to you before, but I'm kinda just like that in general-"

"That's true," Herc added, and Laf shrugged, nodding.

"And, like, I'm not saying all this cause I just found out you were a hot ass motherfucker, but I really think it's cool how you draw. And stuff."

John's smile grew. "You do?"

"Yeah?" Alex squeaked.

John's face blossomed into a full on grin. "Thanks, Alexander."

"Yeah," Alex breathed, gazing down at John's freckled pink lips. They stared for a while, until John spoke up.

"Look, Alex... my dad's... um... not so good with me, uh... well, he's-"

"Homophobic?"

"That plus a million synonyms for asshole," John muttered.

"Same with my dad. I mean, my dad's not homophobic, thank goodness, but he's an asshole."

"You still wanna try shit?" John asked, not really believing his luck that one, he was talking to his hot neighbour finally, and two, he liked him back. Alex slowly nodded, and Laf and Herc _awwwwed_.

"Did we just witness true love, Laf?" Herc sighed.

"It would seem so, Hercules," Laf smiled dreamily, and the two walked off, leaving Alex and John to their sexual tension.

* * *

"And, ehm... why, may I inquire, do you wish to work at Marty's Mac and Cheese Hut? Do you have our interest at heart?" the freckled teenaged employee with the name tag "Seabury" asked. Thomas smiled, folding his hands together on the table.

"Glad you asked, sir. I've loved mac and cheese dearly my entire life- as well as vanilla ice cream, and you guys serve both! How 'bout that. A true dream come true!"

"I hate to crush your, eh... _dreams_ , Mr. Jefferson," Seabury coughed, "But I'm afraid we don't have any management positions available right now."

"I'm not lookin' for management. I just want a good old honest job as a fry cook, like when I was a kid over hot Virginian summers."

"Ehhh... yes well, still- it seems you're rather over qualified," Seabury puzzled, scanning over Thomas' resume for the fourth time that afternoon.

"Is there such a thing?"

"Well," Seabury sputtered, "Sir, you're... you were a corporate..." He took a breath, shaking his head in a fluster. "Goodness, when can you start?"

Thomas flashed a winning grin. "Immediately, if you please, sir."

* * *

Maria moaned Angelica's name, hands clutching at the headboard of the motel as Angie brought their lips together again, thrusting her fingers deeper. Maria's hips arched off the bed, seeking even more depth, and Angelica delivered, changing angles so she could touch Maria's breast and Maria could stroke her _right there_ and--

"Ohhh," Maria moaned, eyes rolling back and toes curling, and Angelica made a loud noise as she finished as well, collapsing beside her rival.

"That was amazing," Maria smiled, eyelids droopy, "Just what I needed." She looked so debauched that Angelica could probably have gone four more times, but work was a thing, and this was their first in-betweener.

"Same here," Angelica sighed, feeling ten times more relaxed already. The stress in her body had left, and she felt as if she could take on the world- she wanted to sing from the hilltops, take a bath, listen to her favourite music... all the things she hadn't done in far too long.

"And it was really fun," Maria giggled, directing Angelica's attention back.

"It was, wasn't it?" Angie smiled.

"So... rendezvous tomorrow, around noon?" Maria asked, innocent pout on her lips as she slipped out of bed, tugging a her suit back on, "You're not busy, are you?"

"I won't be late," Angelica assured with a grin, a burst of exhilaration running through her as she admired Maria's disappearing skin under her blouse.

* * *

When Thomas got home from the interview, he decided to go out for another run, as he had missed that morning's in preparation for the meeting at his favourite fast food chain. He felt invigorated, now that he was free of his old job, and extremely happy that his new one entailed working around macaroni and cheese all day. Running by the house next door, he saw John getting into the car with his father.

"John!" he called, waving. "Hey."

"Hey," John smiled, and gestured to his dad. "This is my father."

"Colonel Henry Laurens," Henry introduced himself, and Thomas gave a playful little salute. Henry didn't laugh with him, or even crack a smile, and by John's grimace, he knew he had to backpedal.

"Uh, an honor sir," Thomas corrected, then hastily turned back to John. "Hey, um... you got that... movie, I was asking about?"

"Oh, the musical one, 1776?"

"That's the one."

"You wanna borrow it?"

"Love to."

"'Course. Come on in," he beckoned, and turned to his dad. "Sir, if it's alright, you can go ahead without me to the hardware store. I know you're a busy man and have things to get done." Henry paused, then nodded once, getting in the car himself.

A little relieved, John led Thomas upstairs through his house.

"Shit, this place is like a museum..." Thomas commented.

"Sure is. Huge, bleak, and you can't touch a fuckin' thing in it without getting s..." John licked over his lips absently, "In deep shit." He went on to open the last door on the right side of the hallway.

As he led Thomas into his room, he decided to withhold the information that he was now unofficially dating his son, just in case that messed up their "professional" relationship here. He still didn't know what kind of dad Thomas was, except for Alex's less than flattering description. In John's experience thus far, though, Thomas seemed alright.

"Alright," John opened his closet, digging back until he pulled out his stash. Thomas' eyes widened.

"That's some hella kush."

"Like I said, how else do you think I afford all this drawing stuff?" he gestured to another packed away box, filled with top notch pencils and charcoal, and everything Thomas could imagine an artist would want or need. Of course it was hidden, and John had posters of the military and American banners and flags all over his room instead.

"I take it your father wants you to join the army in his steps?" Thomas asked.

"How'd you guess?" John asked sarcastically. "I'm just waiting for the right time to get myself kicked out of here, so I can live my own life. I can probably set myself up okay in New York when it does eventually happen- but it sure as shit can't happen any time soon, or I'll be the _epitome_ of a starving artist, with no higher education at all." A look of sobriety passed across John's face. "I just worry about my mom, though, and what'll happen if I leave her."

"You know..." Thomas shifted, gazing at the ambitious freckled boy, "If you ever need anything-"

"Hey. 'Preciate it, but.. I'm just here to sell you weed, man," John grinned, "This ain't the salvation army."

Thomas smiled as well. "Alright. What've you got?"

"This stuff is good. I've got lots of it, two hundred a pound."

"Is that what we sparked in the parking lot?" Thomas asked, eyeing the different bags of green herb.

"Nah. This is the shit we sparked," John smirked, pulling out a tiny bag. Jefferson raised his eyebrows.

"How much?"

"Two thousand."

"Shit, now I see why your job was just a front," Thomas chuckled, "Okay. I'll have it over to you later today, is that alright?"

"Hey, of course. I know you're good for it."

"Thanks," Thomas smiled, pocketing the weed.

"See you soon, Mr. Jefferson."

"That you will, Jackie!"

John laughed to himself as Thomas saw himself out. He found it hilarious that he was his sort of boyfriend's dad's drug dealer.

* * *

"So, Alex- how was your day?"

Alexander looked up from poking around his dinner plate. "What?"

"How was your day?" Thomas smiled, humming to himself cheerfully. Even Angelica looked up at this.

"Why are you asking me about my day, you never ask me anything," Alex muttered.

"Just wondering. Maybe y'all would like to hear about my day."

"Oh, do tell," Angelica huffed, her mood strangely docile tonight, "I'm sure it was exciting as always."

Thomas gave her a sweet smile. "Oh, sugar, you're right- nothing too exciting. I just blackmailed my boss for $60,000 and quit my job today, pass the asparagus?"

"What the fuck?" Alex asked.

"You're not serious," Angelica deadpanned.

"I am very serious, please pass the asparagus."

Angie felt all of her stress returning. "You think you can just leave everything to me now?! Oh, yeah- Angelica'll take care of it. Just go quit your job without telling me, everything'll be fine!"

"I just told you. I'd really like the fucking aspa-"

"THOMAS JEFFERSON!"

Thomas got up, glaring at his wife dead in the eye. Then he walked over to the other side of the table, picked up the plate of asparagus, and smashed it against the wall.

"Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking, sweetie," he said, and downed his glass of wine. After a moment of thick tension, Alex got up, shaking his head.

"I am so out. You two are fucked up, I'm not sticking around long enough to-"

"Sit down, Alexander."

"Fuck you, I'm-!"

"SIT YOUR ASS DOWN."

Alex sat back down slowly, eyebrows raising. Thomas gripped the back of his chair. "I am finished with the both of you treating me like _shit_. Angelica, we discussed this in bed- I'm not your little bitch anymore, I wanna quit my job, I'm a big boy, I've got something lined up. And Alexander? If you _ever_ tell me to fuck off again, I will ship you straight off to France, I've got friends there who will _gladly_ home school you at no cost to me."

Alexander swallowed, pushing his plate away. Thomas stood up a little straighter, composed himself, and poured himself another glass.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the garage, working out and _getting high_."

Alex and Angelica stared at each other as Thomas walked out, astonished. Secretly, Angie was glad the focus was on her husband tonight... she still smelled like Maria's perfume.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are you going, John?"

John looked back to where his father was sitting in the living room, and Eleanor looked up from the dishes she was doing nervously. John opened his mouth.

"I was just heading over to Alex's next door... he's got some homework of mine, I wanted to-"

"It's awful late," Henry continued, and John swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yes sir, it is." He opted for a lie, to quell any suspicion. "But my other friends will be there too, and I don't want to let them down."

"Your other friends?" Henry turned fully, crossing his arms, "So you've got friends here, now?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're not talking about that confused freak who wears makeup, are you?"

John's throat tightened, and fought the urge to bite back at his dad. "Lafayette is at cheer practice tonight, sir. It's just Hercules and Alex."

Henry scoffed. "A man shouldn't be on the cheerleading team. It's fucking sick how the schools around here endorse this shit- the kid is mentally ill if he thinks he can prance around in skirts and lipstick and still get somewhere in this damn world. Where are his parents?" Henry shook his head. "I don't like you hanging around that degenerate."

John was screaming internally, blood boiling. Laf was not a man- not a he. Laf was not a woman- not a she. Lafayette was fucking _non-binary._

"Yes, sir," he gritted out.

"I'm right, aren't I, Eleanor?!"

"Of course, dear, of course," Eleanor rushed over, taking his plate away. Henry nodded, and shooed John off. John slammed the front door, beyond caring if it upset his bigot father, and stomped over to Alex's. Alex opened the door, seeming just as pissed off with something, but immediately noticed John's demeanor first.

"What's-"

"Don't wanna talk about it," John muttered, and closed the door behind himself. "You?"

"Yeah, me either," Alex grumped.

Once they got upstairs, Alex checked around his room. The curtains were closed, everything was safe, and there would certainly be no interruptions from his parents tonight... he rubbed his arm, wondering if he remembered to turn the heat on.

"So," Alex said, sitting on the edge of his bed, "Did you bring your sketchbook?"

"Yeah," John blushed, "Why?"

"I... kinda want to see it."

"I was afraid of that," John laughed, letting out that grin. Alex pouted.

"Please?"

"I just... they're not real good or anything-"

Alex took the journal from John's hands, and began flipping through. "Oh my god... what the fuck do you mean, not good? These are..." He looked up. "You're gonna go to an art school, right?"

John chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's... not really an option for me. See, my dad's hell bent on me joining the army, 'learning some discipline', as he puts it, as if I don't already walk around that damn house like a cadet."

Alex looked genuinely crestfallen, one hand over his heart and the other on a page. "That legitimately breaks my heart, John... you're too good not to do what you love."

"Such is life," John shrugged, carefully placing the book aside, "You adapt to it, it doesn't adapt to you."

"Why do you let your dad boss you around like that?" Alex frowned.

John hesitated, a far off look in his eyes. "You don't?"

"No, my dad can shove it. Why don't you just tell yours to?"

John flinched. "It's complicated, Alexander."

"Well, right now mine's going through some kind of juvenile rebellion- total midlife crisis, and the man's not even forty yet- he's acting like an actual teenager. He has a crush on Laf, for Christ's sake!"

"From what I've seen, who doesn't?" John smiled.

"Yeah, well," Alex shook his head, looking down. "It's embarrassing."

"I'd much rather have your embarrassing dad than my homophobic dick for one," John joked, "Wanna trade?"

Alex pursed his lips. "On second thought..."

John let out another laugh, and then thought of something. "Hey... come with me, I wanna show you something cool."

They went down the stairs, and John took Alex across the little pathway, across the lawn, and back to his own house. He dropped the other boy's hand once they got remotely close, and opened the front door with a quiet creak.

The lights were off, and nobody was awake. Good.

John led Alex over to a row of cabinets, two filled with different models of guns, and the one in the middle with a bunch of priceless antiques from the Revolutionary war.

"My great, great, great grandfather fought in this war," John explained in a hushed voice, "He got a bunch of medals, and served as Washington's aide de camp."

"No shit, huh?" Alex marvelled, and John grinned at him.

"Yup. All these guns are models from those times, with a progression in modern models until like, a year ago. My dad's got a weird gun thing, I don't know. Makes him feel powerful owning all these, probably."

"If _that's_ the skeleton in your dad's closet, I'd say he's not that weird."

"Here..." John dug around in his pocket, finding a bobby pin, and picked the lock on the cabinet door before opening it. He took out one of the medals, and handed it to Alex, who's eyes were wide as saucers.

"Oh my god. I can't believe I'm holding this right now," Alex murmured.

"Yeah, it's pretty dope. Are you, like... into history?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded quickly, handing the medal back as if it were precious gold, "I mean, they were all kind of assholes because they owned people, but I'm really into the founders and all that."

"I always thought they were boring ass white dudes," John laughed, "And I find it real hard to get interested in something my father uses to bribe me into a career I don't want."

"I can see where that would be a deterrent." Alex bit his lip, and John watched the small action, feeling something light up inside of him. Alex looked around, wondering why the place felt so tense- the air about it wasn't quite right.

"Let's go back to your place," John finally whispered, tearing his eyes away from Alex's parted lips before he jumped his bones in dangerous territory. Alex jerked his head up, reading John's meaning in his eyes.

"Yeah, please."

The two shut the Laurens' front door carefully before hurrying back into the Jefferson residence. When they got back up to Alex's room, John was grateful for the privacy... and Alex was getting nervous.

"You okay?" John asked, shutting the door.

"Yeah... I just..." Alex took a deep breath, "I don't usually get nervous, but I'm like... really nervous right now cause I really like you and you're very close to me right now and ohhh wow, yeah, bueno," he muttered, as John crawled onto bed beside him.

"Forget how to English?" John smirked.

"Si?" Alex squeaked, and John finally connected their lips, bringing his hand up to tenderly graze Alex's cheek and brush the hair away. Alex moaned softly, leaning into John's caresses, and eventually let himself go pliant as John peppered kisses all over his face.

"I'm..." Alex swallowed, nudging his hips up.

"Yeah... me too," John nodded, feeling his pants grow tighter. John sat back on his heels, removing his shirt, and after Alex had recovered from the utter shock of that, he removed his own.

"You're beautiful," Alex whimpered, and John felt another blush spread down his chest.

"You talk too much," John murmured, and kissed Alex again, rolling his hips down against the other boy's. Alex groaned loudly, and John reached between them, beginning to undo Alexander's fly. "This cool?"

"Hell yes," Alex breathed, eyes closed, so John continued, dragging the zipper down and brushing his knuckles against Alex's erection before reaching into his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle boxers and-

"Ohhhh, fuck fuckity fuck," Alex gasped, and John took that as a 'keep going'.

"You got lube, babygirl?" John asked, kissing Alex's forehead, and Alex shuddered at the nickname, his dick giving a throb, and pointed to the drawer beside the bed. John reached in with his spare hand, and in the meantime, Alex eagerly went to work on getting John's pants unbuckled. He soon freed the boy on top, and eyed John's hard cock.

"Wowza," Alex grinned, sitting up on his elbows, "We've got a live one 'eya!" John pushed him back down playfully, popping the cap on the lube. When he had enough squeezed out, he went back to stroking Alex, who arched his back underneath John. John propped himself up on his forearm, and Alex took some of the lube as well to start jerking John. When Alex's hand first reached John's dick, the freckled boy made a small noise and paused, then continued until they were locked in a rhythm.

After a few minutes of hushed moans and bed creaking, John grabbed Alex's fist and joined them, pumping them both together.

"John," Alex whispered, mouth open in an O. John watched him as his own face scrunched up- he normally didn't come this fast, and he seriously wanted to make a good impression on Alex, but-

"Fu-uck," John gasped, spilling over his own hand and Alex's, and Alexander tossed his head back, nose scrunching and body jerking with his own orgasm. John pumped them both through the aftershocks, until Alex started pawing at his back. The freckled boy rolled off to lay beside him, then after a minute, heaved himself off the bed to start collecting his clothes again.

"Shit," Alex muttered, rubbing his eyes, "We move fast, don't we?"

"Why should we wait when we both want something?" John grinned, and Alex let out a little giggle, rolling onto his stomach and kicking his feet back and forth.

"You are a gift in bed, Laurens."

"Am I?" John teased, shooting double finger guns, and Alex shot them right back.

"9/10."

"9?" John frowned.

"You didn't pound my ass," Alex replied simply, inspecting his blunt, bitten nails.

"Yet," John winked, and Alex giggled again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Alexander?"

"Uh, uh- oh fuck, ummmm...."

"I'm doing laundry tomorrow morning, if-" Angelica stopped as she entered, eyes wide.

"Oh. Hello! Uh... what was your name again? Jack?"

"John," John smiled in good nature.

"Alex, I didn't realize you had a friend over." Angelica's eyes scanned the room, from the messed up sheets to Alex's wild hair to John's undone belt buckle and-

"Oh. Ohhh," she coughed, and stepped back awkwardly. "I-I'll leave you to it!"

John let out a laugh as the door clicked shut. "Man, your parents are so chill!"

"I guess they're good for some things," Alex smirked.

"You're way too hard on them. Your dad is actually a pretty nice guy, I've talked to him a couple times." John sighed. "If we're fucking and/or dating now, I should probably tell you..."

"Tell me what?" Alex asked worriedly, bolting upright, "You're not fucking my dad, are you? I swear to fucking god, if another one of my-"

"No, shit, ew," John laughed, wiping his eyes, "Fuck no, I... I sell him weed."

"What?" Alex asked.

"I sell weed, and your dad... buys it from me."

The two stared at each other for a very long time, before they both burst out laughing at the same time. When the laughter subsided, Alex shook his head.

"Well, he may seem cool to you... someone on the outside," he said, crawling up the bed to rest his head in John's lap. John pulled on his hoodie, tossing the hood up as he stared down at Alex, resting serenely.

"It's always like that, huh? Everyone always seems nice on the outside."

His eyes drifted up, staring at the curtains.

* * *

"Alex?" Angelica stopped her son as he got ready to leave the next morning.

"Yeah?" he replied, grabbing a chocolate bar, his headphones, and his laptop. 

"Do you... really like this John kid? That way?"

"Oh my god, we are not having this talk," Alex rolled his eyes, "I'm graduating this year."

"I was just-" Angelica tried, a smile creeping up as she tossed up her hands.

"You were being weird!" Alex couldn't help but laugh too, and Angelica watched him jog out the front door. The moments she could actually reach out to him were her favourite moments of the day.

* * *

Thomas bought a new car. He ditched the shitty old regular Mercedes he had, and bought a Porsche. Why shouldn't he? He was filthy rich anyway. Sure, Angelica would probably object that that money could have easily bought them years worth of groceries, but who gives a fuck? Thomas liked that Porsche.

Angelica didn't even bother to yell at him for it. It was like her husband was regressing in age, and it bothered her, sure, but at the moment she was on top of the world, not about to let some stupid car and her stupid husband ruin that for her. 

"So, how do you feel about... divorce?" she asked Maria nervously one day, in a motel bed. Maria looked over, surprise evident in her sultry brown eyes.

"Um... I've never thought of it."

"Really?" Angelica bit her lip. "It's just that... well," she rolled over a little, drawing patterns up her lover's arm, "It just seems like something we could totally do. To, you know... finally... have something? Real? Together?"

Maria stared at Angelica for a very long time, and Angelica worried that she had just severed anything they might have had blooming... until the other girl simply leaned in, stroking hair away from Angie's face.

"You know, ask me four years ago, I never would'a thought I'd run into someone like you," she murmured, eyes jumping from Angelica's eyes down to her lips and back. "I'd have thought James would be my endgame- someone I'd die with. Who knows?" she gave a slight shrug, "I probably would've. But then," she rolled on her back, grinning widely, "You happened."

"We're rivals," Angie added, laughing, "Professional rivals. How did this even happen?"

"I have no fucking idea," Maria giggled, "I don't even remember anymore."

As they lay there together, though, Angelica couldn't help but note that her question had never actually been answered.

* * *

Thomas breathed out his one hundredth count, finally setting the massive weight he had been benching up again. It was really, really stupid not to be doing this shit without a spotter, but hey- who was he gonna ask, John?

Thomas hummed to himself. Not a bad idea... but Alex would probably kill him. For real this time.

 _Alex._ Thomas got off the bench, taking off his workout gloves, and opened the small box he kept the weed in. Rolling a paper, he thought to himself of the very first time he had even considered adoption with Angelica... and the resulting conversation he had had with the boys.

_"Adoption?" James asked, scrunching up his nose as the three men jogged down the street. "Adopting... children?"_

_"Well, what the fuck else would I be adopting, Jemmy, pigeons?" Thomas had scoffed, shaking his head. John Adams wiped his brow._

_"Better think twice before you do, Tom. Abigail and I love ours, and she gave birth to them, but..." he huffed, "All I'm saying is, get ready."_

_"That sounds an awful lot like a warning," James nodded, and Thomas frowned at the two._

_"Fuck y'all, I'm making a very serious, very proud decision, and you've gotta be such fuckin' downers about it! We're gonna get a kid, and you're gonna buy it shit for its birthday, capiche?!"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Sure thing, Thomas."_

_"What if he hates you?" James came out with, and Thomas sputtered._

_"He won't! I'll be the best dad that ever was."_

Thomas stared out the grimy garage window through the curling smoke in front of him. _Yeah_. If only that version of him could take a good long glimpse into his future.

Night fell, and Alexander found himself bored, wondering what John was doing. Opening up his curtain and looking out a little, he found John's parted halfway, window open. He could see the other boy hard at work on something, probably homework... his lips turned up into a smile as he knocked on the window. After a few more, louder knocks, John finally heard, and looked up to find Alex standing there in his oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants.

Then, Alex got an idea. 

Reaching down to the hem of his sweatshirt, he began to tug it up over his head. John raised his eyebrows, grinning, and reached behind him, pulling out his sketchbook. Once Alex had his top fully off and was showing off to John, the freckled boy across the way began to sketch, starting with Alex's shoulders, going down to the soft curves of his hips and across to his arms...

Just as Alex was shifting for a better position, the door to John's room flew open, and Alex quickly ducked behind his curtain, hiding out of sight. Henry Laurens slapped John in the face, sending his son sprawling and the sketchbook sliding under his bed, hidden.

"What the hell were you thinking, boy?!" he shouted, hitting John again, "Touching my medals?! I found the damn things out of place!"

John felt his lower lip for blood, and gasped for air as he tried to scramble back against his bookcase as calmly as he could.

"I'm sorry, sir... I apologize-"

"You listen to me, John. You've got no respect!"

"I know. I know, I'm sorry," John kept on chanting, as he knew just what to say to talk him down when his dad got like this. "I'll do better- don't give up on me, dad."

At this, Henry's fist loosened a little, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"How are you going to learn discipline if I don't teach you, huh?"

"You're right," John breathed, feeling the blood trickle from his nose now, "Thank you, sir."

Henry sniffed, straightened out his shirt, and left John's room, the door swinging on its hinges. Alex, still halfway undressed, watched in stunned silence through the crack in his curtain, unsure of what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

A day went by. Angelica returned home from a day of work to find Thomas lounging on the couch, sipping a beer.

"What'd you do with the old car?" she finally huffed. Thomas looked up.

"Why are you asking now?"

"Because I want to know, I have a right to know."

"I had it hauled off to a junk shop."

"You didn't even sell it?"

"I've got enough money as it is."

"It was a perfectly good car..."

"And this is a perfectly good house, doesn't mean it's any less boring as fuck. God, what I wouldn't give to move."

"Be my guest," Angie bit, kicking off her heels. Thomas' eyes narrowed.

"You look good today."

Angelica was caught off guard, and she stalled her movements.

"Thank you?"

"No, I'm serious... your legs... damn, Angie." Thomas got up, setting his beer aside, and snaked his arms around his wife's midsection, admiring her for a moment. She seemed tense in his embrace, but her eyes remained curious, intrigued.

"Thomas, what are you-" she tried to brush off, but Thomas caught her wrist, sighing through his nose wistfully.

"Where did we go wrong, babygirl?" he whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of his wife's eyes. "Remember this? Remember when we would just..." he trailed a couple fingers down her arm, nibbling at her ear, "Just let go, and..."

Angie hummed a little, reciprocating just a tad as Thomas began to walk them backward into the couch. Breathing in each others' breath, their deadly squabbling was forgotten momentarily as they finally brushed lips, leading to kissing on the sofa, Angelica underneath Thomas.

"Mmmm," Angelica murmured, hands trailing down Thomas' back. Maybe it was his new, carefree attitude- she pretended to hate him for it, but... _god_. Thomas grinned into the kiss as she ground her hips up.

"Yeah... it's been way too long for us, huh?"

"Uh huh," was all Angie could manage. But... what about... Maria? And...

"Like that, baby? Love the taste of your lips, love the way you used to..." Thomas laughed, recalling memories, "Act like a complete freak."

"I..." Angelica smiled, but as Thomas began to unzip his pants, she put a hand on his chest, breaking the moment abruptly. "Wait... not on the sofa."

"What?" Thomas asked, frowning.

"The... the sofa," Angie sighed in frustration, "It's... it's a $600 sofa, Thomas..."Blinking, Thomas stared down at her... then got up, shaking his head. "No, wait-"

"I can't fuckin' believe you," the tall man said, chuckling bitterly, "It's a fucking _sofa_."

"It's an expensive, nice sofa!"

"IT'S A GOD DAMN, _FUCKING_ SOFA!"

"DON'T YELL AT ME!"

Upstairs, Alex rolled his eyes as John laid out on his bed. Of course they were fighting again. For a while, the two boys just co-existed like that, not really saying much. Alex wanted to ask about John's dad and what he had witnessed, but some things were best left unsaid.

Once it got dark, Alex had edged onto John's lap, his head resting there as John admired him fondly. Suddenly, Alex came out with something.

"We should run away."

John looked down again. "Believe me, I've thought of it."

"I hate my dad... you hate your dad... you have an actual reason to hate your dad, mine's just..." he sighed, "A douche." He paused, thinking things over. "You know my dad pretty well, right?"

John considered this. "I guess. He and I are on good terms, what with the... sales and stuff."

"Will you kill my dad, John Laurens?" Alex asked, sitting up to face his boyfriend. His tone was dead serious. John's expression didn't change, just stared with amber eyes into Alex's chocolate ones.

"Sure," he replied, and Alex nodded. After a minute, he sprawled back down again, pulling a blanket over his body. "You know I'm not being real, right?" he moped.

"I know," John nodded, understanding clear in his face. Some things, Alex didn't need to say- John just got. The freckled boy pulled Alex's blanket away, grazing his tummy and smiling affectionately. "You know, I've drawn you so many times now," John mused, "And I haven't read any of your supposedly bomb-ass pieces of writing."

"Oh, I'm sorry- I'll have that sonnet out to you by morning," Alex muttered sarcastically, and John huffed a laugh.

"I bet you could."

"I could write you _ten_ sonnets by morning," Alex retorted, "If I really wanted to."

"And you don't?"

"Okay, fine," Alex cleared his throat dramatically, reaching back to connect hands with John. "Cold in my professions, Laurens, warm in my affections..."

"Good start, I like it," John laughed.

"Shut up, you're interrupting my creative flow," Alex grinned up, and the two collapsed back into giggles on Alexander's bed.

* * *

The next morning found Alex passing his dad in the kitchen, the tall man shaking a power shake.

"Why are you wearing a Marty's Mac and Cheese Hut apron?" Alex frowned at him, and Thomas turned a little.

"Why are you wearing a...?" he tried to think of some sassy retort, but ended up falling short. "Whatever."

As he was getting breakfast though, Alex thought of what had happened to John, and how horrible Henry Laurens was. That got him wondering if his own dad was that bad at all, and… well… truth be told, he wasn't.

“So, you’re working out now?” the student muttered, trying to start a conversation.

“Uh… yeah,” Thomas said, surprised that his son was even talking to him outside of scathing insults.

“Good,” Alex nodded, “Um… I probably should too, ‘cause… I’m not all too active, and I don’t have the abs I’d particularly like…”

“Nah,” Thomas shrugged, glancing up, “You’re fine just the way you are, Alex.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two smiled a little at each other, and Thomas hopped up on top of the counter.

“It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you,” Alex murmured, sitting up on the counter opposite his dad, “Like, actually _talked_ to you, without screaming at you. Or you screaming at me.”

“I know,” Thomas laughed, “Crazy. I kinda just gave up on the idea we would ever get along, y’know? You’re almost an adult now, and you’ll be gone off on your own before me and your mom know it.”

“Where does that leave you and her?” Alex asked, raising both eyebrows.

“God, I don’t know,” Thomas shuddered, “I don’t even wanna think about that just yet.” Alex smiled again, and Thomas continued. “But going to your game and everything… tryin' out some new stuff in my life. It’s made me realize that I don’t have to be this boring, middle management, disenfranchised dad. People could even like me like this.”

_People could even like me like this._

Alex began to slowly piece things together… why was his dad working out all of a sudden? Talking about his game… people liking him… What did all this coincide with?!

“Holy fuck,” Alex muttered, and backed away. “You’re kidding me.”

Thomas gave him an inquisitive look, but Alex just shook his head, letting out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re just doing this to get in their pants, aren’t you?”

“What?!”

“Lafayette?” Alex growled, “No wonder you’re trying to jack yourself up, you asshole. It’s all to fuck my best friend.”

“Alexander,” Thomas got off the counter, trying to reach out, but Alex just gave him a disgusted look.

“You’re fucking gross, you know that?”

Thomas tried to speak again, but really had nothing to defend himself with. He deflated as Alex stormed to the front door, clenching his fists in frustration at his screw up. Then, the screen door opened before Alex could get to it, and in sauntered-

“Fucking figures,” Alex spat, and shoved past Laf as he went off to school without his friend. The French student blinked, frowning Alex’s way, then shrugged, coming in to grab a branch of grapes from the table.

“Hope you don’t mind,” they smirked, popping one in their mouth, “I didn’t eat breakfast.” As they said this, they let their crop top ride up a little, and Thomas’ eyes fell down to Laf’s lips, where a bit of the clear lip gloss was smudged.

“No, it’s fine,” he managed out weakly, “Take all of them, if you want, the only grapes I like are in wine.”

“Hmmm,” Laf grinned, eating another one, then swung their hips as they moved closer. “Oh, monsieur… you have been working out even more, I see by your muscles…” They wrapped a hand around Thomas’ bicep.

And here it was. The perfect opportunity to assert his newfound confidence.

“That I have, sugar. You like?” Thomas flashed a wink, flexing under Laf’s grasp. At the reciprocation, the student’s smirk curiously faded as they took a step back.

“Eh… I have to, ehm… I will be late for school,” they stammered, and quickly left. Thomas’ brows furrowed, perplexed.

* * *

\----

At the Mac and Cheese hut, Thomas had taken over as a fry cook, which meant he got to stand by the drive-thru window and help Martha, the lovely attendant. She was a part timer, in college and working two part time jobs, this being one of them. They had fallen into some sort of friendship- during the rush, they always had each other’s backs. Now was one of those times.

“Oh my god,” Angelica laughed, slipping sunglasses on, “I’m so hungry.”

Maria grinned, turning into the drive-thru of the Mac and Cheese hut. It was their lunch break, when they usually got together during the work day, and they needed a place to grab food. Angelica had almost backed out of going here to order, since her husband always loved this particular food and thinking of him made her feel guilty. But Maria’s pout and puppy dog eyes had convinced her, so there they were, waiting in the drive-thru line of Marty’s.

“Hello, welcome to Marty’s Mac and Cheese Hut, what’ll it be?” Martha asked through the intercom, chewing gum audibly.

“One large crusty cheese and one small potato salad, please,” Maria said, “Uh… you want the same?” she whispered, and Angelica nodded. “Make that two.”

They drove through to the window, and Maria leaned over to kiss her companion.

“You look so good right now…” she mumbled, and Angelica kicked her legs up on the dash, deepening the kiss and even breaking away to trail her lips down Maria’s neck. Suddenly, they heard someone clearing their throat, and Martha handed out their paper bags of food to them.

“God, I love you!” Angelica laughed ecstatically, a little too loudly.

Thomas turned from the grill at the voice, narrowing his eyes. Then he looked out the window.

“Oh, this is perfect,” he grinned, dropping his spatula right in the deep fryer, and Martha quirked her head inquisitively as he approached the window.

“Thank you!” Angie giggled to the employees, eyes never leaving Maria’s to look up.

“Oh, you’re welcome, lamb. And have a cheesy day,” Thomas said, and Angelica’s blood ran cold, slamming her head back against the seat as she sat straight up.

“Thomas?!” she screeched, and Maria looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mr. Jefferson?”

“Miss Reynolds,” Thomas smiled, doling out the sweetness.

“Busted,” the teenage attendant clucked her tongue.

“I’m dead,” Angelica whispered.

“After a kiss like that? I would be too,” Thomas winked at her, and waved goodbye as Maria peeled out of there. Martha looked at the tall Virginian, and Thomas smirked.

“Such a blunder, sometimes it makes me wonder why I even bring the thunder,” he sighed, and they high fived.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Angelica repeated tearfully, running her hands through her hair repeatedly.

“Shhh, calm down, he didn’t even seem that torn up about it,” Maria comforted, despite the anxiety in her face as well. The neighbourhood was small, and if this got out, it could mean something totally different for her and James…

“H-He fucking laughed, the bastard,” Angelica sobbed, “When he saw me with someone else! I know my husband like I know my own mind, the bastard doesn’t give a _fuck_ I’m cheating on him!”

“That’s what he is! A bastard,” Maria told her, wrapping her arms around her lover. Angie cried for a little longer, then wiped her running mascara.

“Are you gonna leave me now?”

Maria looked into Angelica’s eyes, and saw her for the strong, dissatisfied mother that she was. Still… was this worth rage she would face if James found out?

The only sound was that of the car engine humming as the younger real estate agent stayed silent.


	6. Chapter 6

The last few days of June were always nice. School was almost out, which meant forever for Alexander, John, and their friends, and for everyone else, it meant good weather. Today, John was particularly excited to see his boyfriend, as they had been texting all night about today's exam- he needed the moral boost of a kiss and some eloquently put encouragement from Alex.

"Morning, sir," John nodded to Henry, looking away. He had used a little of his mother's foundation to cover up the black eye he had forming from a few days ago, even though it looked weird and patchy with his freckles. He also grabbed some sunglasses from the table before he left, but his father's voice stopped him from leaving.

"You haven't even had breakfast yet, John," Henry said, and John swallowed. He really, really didn't want his mom to see the bruising- he knew it affected her, even though she never did anything about it, and didn't want to give her another reason to worry.

"Not hungry," John murmured, "But thank you, si-"

"Sit down," Henry said sternly, so John quickly took a seat at the dining room table. After a moment of John looking down at the neatly ironed place mat, Henry spoke again. "What happened to your eye?" he asked, giving a pointed stare over his newspaper. John swallowed again, a lump in his throat forming.

"I tripped on the s-stairs, sir," he replied, cursing the stutter in his otherwise calm response.

"Did you," Henry mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee, eyes never breaking contact with his son's, "You should learn to be a little more careful, son." His voice was low, level, and John could sense the underlying threat in it. The freckled young man nodded slowly, not daring to tear his eyes away though every burning fibre in him told him to.

"I should, sir."

"What's that on your neck?" Now, this was genuine intrigue, John could tell. His father hadn't beaten him there, and they both knew it... His heart rate spiked, pinpricks of sweat breaking out all over John's face. Trying to stay calm, he shrugged.

"Don't know."

"It looks like a bruise there, too... did you fall funny?" Henry was really inclining his head now, squinting.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, he was dead, he was 100% fucked. Why had he let Alex give him a hickey there?! _Why?!!_

"Must have," he replied, hoping his father couldn't see the way his chest rose and fell a little too quickly. After a few seconds of tense, deafening silence, both John and his mother waiting with baited breath, Henry waved him off, and John practically ran out the front door. He felt too sick to his stomach to eat anything right now.

Once John was gone, Henry shook his head, Eleanor lifting a shaky spoonful of oatmeal up to her mouth beside him.

"Teenagers can be so clumsy sometimes," he told her, and in her usual robotic trance, Eleanor forced a tight smile, shaking her head as well.

"So clumsy."

"Well, I've got some work to do," he muttered, standing, "Make sure the cabinets are doubly locked, hear? John got into them, you know."

"My goodness."

"Will you, then?"

"Yes," Eleanor nodded solemnly, and Henry trekked up the stairs. As he was passing John's room, though, he noticed the door was open a crack...

Just as he was going to walk past, a thought struck him- rather, many thoughts.

_"I'm going over to Alex's for a bit. Guys night, game's on."_

_" I was just heading over to Alex's next door... he's got some homework of mine, I wanted to pick it up."_

_"Alex and I are going to go chill at the mall. Won't be home 'til late."_

_"He's cute... I mean, in a ridiculous, pitiable kind of way, of course."_

_Cute..._

_Late..._

_Alexander..._

Henry pushed the door open a little more, and peered around. He saw nothing out of the ordinary... John's bed was made nicely, military style as he was taught, and everything around the space was tidy and in place. Henry was about to shrug off any inkling he had about his son and leave the room, before something caught his eye. Underneath the bed, the corner of a book of sorts stuck out from behind the comforter...

Henry bent down, and picked it up, flipping to the first page. A nature scene. Interesting- Henry had never known John drew. It was a waste of time, anyway, but still... it was an interesting skill. As Henry turned the pages, though, he eventually became more concerned. The turtles and trees and such were beginning to turn into male forms as the sketchbook went on, losing clothes as pages went on.

Soon, Henry flipped to one of Alex standing with two others, smoking. Then he found the next was also of Alex, sitting across from John in a classroom setting. Next one was Alex walking down the street. Another of Alex's smile... and one more- a shirtless Alex, posing from his window.

"My god," Henry whispered, slamming the book shut with quivering fists. This was unacceptable... if his son was sketching pictures like this, it could only mean one thing.

At the high school, John kissed Alex on the cheek when he got to school, and opened up his backpack. "So, today I was thinking-" Just as he reached in, he cursed. "Fuck, I must've forgotten my sketchbook at home."

"Aw, sucks," Alex commented, biting into an apple.

"Yo, it must still be under my bed," John mused.

"Right..." Alex swallowed his bite, thinking back to that night he had witnessed. _Did John know that he saw what had happened? Best not bring it up, just in case._

"Alexander," Lafayette caught up with their friend, "Why did you run off this morning?"

"Reasons," Alex grumbled, "Why are you wearing a sweater in June?"

For some reason, Laf hugged the material closer to themselves, looking down a little bashfully. They were certainly less boisterous today... and they hadn't even brought up yet which of the latest guys fucked them.

 "I am a little chilly, mon cher, that is all," Laf assured, a distant look in their eyes. Suddenly, Herc came over, slinging an arm around Laf and John, and Alex followed behind with both hands on John's shoulders.

“Hey guys, I'm officially back in the good books with Mr. Knox. I've- hey, why’ve you got a sweater on, Laf?” he asked, “You’re wearing that shirt with the-“

“Quit going on about it,” Laf snapped, and shoved their hands in their pockets. John and Herc looked at each other, and shrugged.

The day went by quickly, but John wished he wasn’t in the mindset he was. Thankfully, Alex sat in front of him just in case, and passed answers back once in a while. Once four o’clock came around, they got out to the front of the school with their two other friends.

"Ah, mon cher, you are the best," Laf grinned, grabbing the cigarette from John. It appeared to onlookers to be a regular cigarette, but John had rolled it with weed for all of them.

"So is that what you do?" Herc asked, eyes wide.

"What, deal? Nah, not the only gig. It's just a side thing."

"I bet you get lots of cash," the bulky student remarked.

John shrugged with a grin. "Pays to be the only guy in town with the stuff." The joint was passed from Laf to Herc, then to Alex, who shotgunned it to John.

“See you tonight?” Alex smiled, smile hazy. John smiled too, slipping on his sunglasses again and giving his boyfriend a lazy kiss on the lips.

“Yeah.” Visiting Alex's house always made him forget everything for a while. "But I can only stay until 6- I've still got one more final tomorrow, and I can't just wing shit like you can and pass with flying colours, got it?"

Alex pouted. "Fine, I guess I can let you go then." He gave John a long hug, holding it for what easily could have been a minute, then broke away, pecking him on the lips.

“See you tonight, John.”

“Adorable,” Laf grinned, coming up behind them, “You would win cutest couple of the year, no doubt. Please tell me you've fucked!”

“I see you’re back to yourself,” Alex deadpanned, glancing over at Laf’s low cut tank top. Laf groaned.

“I was never _not_ myself, mon ami, mon dieu!”

"Whatever. You're still coming over a little later too, after John, right?"

"With all the Jack-"

"And Red Bull!"

"You can imagine," Laf grinned, and Herc slapped them a high five.

"Shit, real sorry to miss it. Gonna be lit," John crossed his arms. Alex smirked, shaking his head.

Upon his return home a little later, John couldn’t find his parents anywhere. Hoping they were out, he began to climb the stairs.

“John.”

He turned, and found Henry standing by his chair, hands gripping the edge.

“Dad,” John said, caught off guard, “Uh, how was your day, sir?”

“My day was fine. Where are you off to?”

“Oh, just going over to Alex’s for a while, sir. Be home soon.”

Henry inclined his head at the mention of their neighbour’s name. “Alex? You’re spending an awful lot of time at his house, aren’t you?”

John turned back slowly. "Not really..."

"Hm," Henry mumbled, then nodded. "Go on, then."

With a quick breath, John jogged up to his room, set his things down, and grabbed all the things he needed for Alex's. Then he ran back down, outside, and over to knock at the other boy's door. Henry trekked up the stairs once John had left, and sneaked back into his son's room, parting the curtains just enough to get a clear view of the Jeffersons' residence. He saw Alexander sitting on his bed, one foot tucked underneath him, writing something down. After a few moments, as expected, John came in, and Alex got up, setting his journal aside. Henry ducked a little to see better, squinting at the two... it seemed they were just talking... Alex said something, John laughed as his friend went to get something. John sat down on the edge of the bed, flicking at something on the cover.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe John was just an overly sensitive kid... well, military school would soon shape him up; no time for doodling there. He'd be a straight backed, tough young man in no-

Henry's thoughts halted in their path as John got back up, greeting Alex again after the Puerto Rican boy had closed his door. Alex's hands encircled John's waist as John's hands went up to cup Alex's face, and... their lips joined, never parting as Alex fumbled backward to close his curtains. Henry was unable to avert his eyes, staring in shock at the shadows that danced behind the thin green drapes... his blood boiled, rage shaking through him.

Downstairs at home, Thomas flicked through the channels. There was nothing good on, except for Judge Judy, Supernatural, reruns of Fantasy Island, and The Truman Show, which was already three quarters of the way finished. Nothing worth veg-ing out over.

"Where is my lovely wife?" Thomas trilled aloud. He knew what Alex was upstairs doing... that was pretty obvious, and the tall Virginian found himself hoping he never sounded _that_ loud as a teenager. Shuddering, the man turned the TV to a random channel just to block it out. But Angelica... oh, Angelica, where was she?

Then Thomas remembered. _That pretty little thing, Maria Reynolds._ _They were having an affair, weren't they? Who could blame her, Maria was gorgeous. Then again, so was Angelica, so it was a match, wasn't it?_

Well, whatever. Angie wanted to seek sexual gratification outside of their marriage, she could go right ahead. That's what Thomas planned to do anyway, once he looked good enough for Gilbert Lafayette... which should be soon, shouldn't it? He'd been working out for weeks, and though he was always in amazing shape, the running with the Georges and his lifting in the garage really helped develop his muscles.

He was irresistible; _next time, Laf won't even be able to tear their eyes off of me,_ Thomas thought smugly. Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, resulting in a boom of thunder, a downpour of rain, and the loss of cable connection. Thomas scowled at the static displayed on the TV as he scrolled through the contacts on his phone.

Angelica's windshield wipers were working double time as she drove along the highway home, the tears streaming down her cheeks as bad as the rain drenching her car.

"I don't know anymore, 'Liza," she breathed, wiping her eyes again with her sleeve, "I can't just... I can't just leave him!"

"But you've been talking about divorce for so long, Angie."

"I know I have, but... he's my husband. I've known him forever, we've got Alex-"

_"Alex has grown up. He's about to move out, and where does that leave you? With a man you despise, who... seems like he despises you just as much! That's not good, sweetie- stop being the victim, like Maria's doing."_

" _Gotta stop it_ ," Peggy echoed through the phone, and Angelica let a small smile through.

 _"And if Maria's got you helpless, well... you've got to tell her,"_ Eliza added softly _, "If she's being flighty, now's the time to lock things down before she runs back to her husband. Listen to me, hon... you're a strong, independent woman, and you've got something to tell Thomas when you get home."_

 _"Yeah!"_ Peggy cried.

"I've got something to tell Thomas when I get home," Angelica repeated, assurance building, "Thomas, I've got something to tell you!"

"Fuckin' dicks on a plate," Thomas grumbled, flicking through each channel. They were all out because of this damn storm. Well, at least it drowned out his son and his friendly weed hustler from next door.

"You can't go," Alex decided, hair sprawled out every which way over John's chest. 

"Okay," John smiled, laughing. 

"I'm serious, I'm not letting you," Alex said petulantly, "Your dad will have to go through me first." 

"Oh, trust me," John muttered, "He will." 

"Well, he's not gonna kill me," Alex shot back, "You could... move in with me. Move in with my family, we'll adopt you, and you can go to art school!"

"If you adopt me, I'd be your brother," John pointed out, staring up at the ceiling with his boyfriend. Alex's nose scrunched up. 

"Kay, forget that. Just... there's gotta be a way!"

"Yeah," John sighed, sitting up, "It's called I'll see you when I get back from military school." 

"You mean boot camp." 

"I mean hell." 

"Yeah... well, I'll send you letters." 

"I'm sure you will." 

"And you better write back." 

"Damn, of course!" They kissed one more time, and John got up. "In the meantime... I'll see you after my final tomorrow, babe." 

"Good luck," Alex grinned, and John blew him another kiss. 

Downstairs, Thomas you was feeling just a little antsy, something of a buzz under his skin. Maybe... if no one was around down here... 

The Southerner bit his lip, relaxing a little further back into the couch, and slid his hand up to brush over his nipple. Then he slid the hand down, grazing the waistband of his pajama pants, and... 

"See you tomorrow!" 

Suddenly, Thomas was startled back into an upright position, running the wayward hand through his hair and letting his tendrils bounce back. 

"John! How are ya?" he asked, standing up and clearing his throat. John offered a smile. 

"Good, Mr. J.. I won't, uh, keep you." 

"Oh no, it's fine, I was just..." Thomas laughed, "Watching Law and Order. Benson's the _woman_ , amiright?!" 

John raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the snowy TV. "Nah, I always preferred Fin."

"True, true, he's pretty badass too..." he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Hey, if you need any more stuff, just... give me a shout," John reminded, "I'm always on call, y'know." Thomas nodded.

"Right! Right, I'm probably gonna have to take you up on that pretty soon."

"Cool. Well, you have a good night, man." 

"Yeah, you- you too," Thomas swallowed, giving a little salute as John chuckled and left.

Cracking the front door open and shaking out his wet hair, John was surprised to see all the lights out. He hadn't expected his parents to be asleep so early, but it was a welcome situation; he really didn't want to have to chat with his dad again. He set his keys down on the counter and hopped the first step, running up to his room- to find his door slightly ajar. Wondering if he had left it open, his thoughts were sharply interrupted by Henry's voice coming from the corner of his room.

"So. Finished getting homework from Alex, are you?"

"Uh... yeah," John frowned. Why was Henry in here?

"Were you giving him the homework, or was he giving it to you?"

"He was... giving it to me," John said slowly, entering his room and dropping his things. He cocked his head a little, breath quickening as he noticed his sketchbook open on the bed to the most recent drawing of Alex.

"Which way was he giving it to you?" Henry growled, stalking up to him, "From behind, while you squealed like a pig?"

John's eyes slowly widened, as he looked over to see one of his curtains partially opened. He took a step back with his left foot, paling, but as he attempted to dash back down the stairs, he felt Henry's fingers wrap around his neck from behind, slamming him down into the ground.

"Hold on," John cried, holding a hand out, "Please-"

"All this time, I've had a faggot living under my roof?" Henry snarled, knocking John's head against the ground, "You've been hiding it right under my nose!"

"Sir," John tried, but was cut off by a sharp slap, and he whimpered, clutching at his face. Real fear coursed through him- by the look in his father's eyes, he could very well be ready to kill.

"If I knew I had a degenerate for a son, I would've kicked your ass out this door a long time ago, boy!" Henry shouted, and John grimaced, prying his father's hands off his throat. Then he stood up to full height, and took a shaky breath, backing into the wall.

"Yeah," he mustered up the courage to say, a single tear spilling down his cheek, "I'm gay. I like guys- draw them all the time." Henry's nostrils flared. "What're you gonna do? You gonna kill me? I can't put up a fight, you know that. You could easily do it." A few more minutes went by, the only audible sound the rain falling against the window. "I love Alex. He loves me. There's nothing _wrong_ with me." He wiped blood from his cheekbone and his lip. "Not everyone around you is straight, Henry. George and George. Thomas Jefferson next door, he's bisexual. Doesn't make him any less of a man, does it?"

"It does now," Henry gritted out, tightening a fist. John glanced down at it, then back up into Henry's eyes.

"I feel sorry for you. You're just a sad, pathetic old man..." He took a few steps closer, lower lip quivering, "Who obviously can't come to terms with who he is."

Henry's lips parted, and John clenched his jaw.

"Get out."

"This is goodbye, then. I'll never see you again."

John grabbed his sketchbook, a jacket, and he cash from his drawers, stuffing it into his pockets, and walked down the stairs. There, he found his mom sitting quietly at the dining room table, backlit by the lightning that flashed and hands clasped together.

"Bye, mom," John whispered, voice cracking, and pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. "Please... if you can," he added, wrapping his arms around her tightly, "Tell the story of tonight."

Wiping her eyes, Eleanor gave John a small smile, dabbing away the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Don't forget to eat," she murmured back, stroking his cheek, "I put some snacks in the cupboard... take a few." She sat back down as John finally prepared to leave the house behind.

Alex let Laf and Herc in the back door. Once they got up to their room, Herc started talking about the season finale of America's Next Top Model, which Alex almost immediately tuned out of, but his attention was once again captured as Laf got up.

"I'll be right back," the french student announced, "Just going to, eh... get something to drink."

"The hell you are," Alex muttered, and Laf narrowed their eyes, turning back around slowly.

"Pardon?"

"We've got all the beer and shit you could possibly want up here. You're just going down to hit on my dad some more."

"It is not my fault your father cannot stop drooling over me, mon am-"

"Cut the shit. You just love it. You love the attention he gives you. You love the attention everyone gives you, telling your stories about how you sucked this guy's dick in the bathroom or let this guy come all over your face at Ben Tallmadge's party, or whatever! Everyone listens, everyone thinks you're the hottest god damn thing, but in reality, you're a fucking slut!"

Laf clamped their mouth shut, blinking, and Herc spoke up softly.

"Alexander..."

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Herc?!" Alex snapped, and Herc grabbed his things, glaring.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do." With that, he pushed past them roughly, and left Laf to try and formulate words.

"You... you have no right to say that to me," Laf murmured, voice wavering.

"I have every right, you're gonna fuck my father!"

"He wants to fuck _me_!"

"Just because he's a pervert doesn't mean you should entertain his sick fantasies like this!"

"I'm 18, Alexander, I can-"

"I don't give a fuck if you're 18 or 56, you're my best friend!"

"Oh yes, am I?" Laf bit, seething. "Because zut, by the way you are treating me, you must think I'm nothing more than your dog!"

"And you hate it, don't you?" Alex replied, tone venomous, "You can't stand being the absolute best at everything, you can't stand it when someone doesn't want you!"

"I couldn't care less if-"

"Really? What if you walked down those steps and my father finally saw you for what you really are?!"

"And what is that, Alexander?" Lafayette breathed, clenching their jaw.

"Boring. Completely, utterly boring."

Laf drew in a sharp breath. "What is wrong with you tonight?" they asked in puzzlement. Alex crossed his arms, blood boiling- he couldn't trust anyone. The only sane person in his whole god damn life was John, and he was leaving -

"Alex!" John panted breathlessly as he burst through to his bedroom, soaked to the bone with rain, "If I asked you to run away with me, now, tonight, would you say yes?"

Alex sat there, dumbfounded. "Your face-"

"Don't," John looked pained, "Just... would you?" Alex, blinking a couple of times, quickly nodded, and John ran over to get beside him on the bed. Laf huffed.

"You two are eloping? And you call me crazy, mon dieu, you two have known each other for a few months!"

"Do you wanna come too, Laf?" John asked, eyebrows lifting, the four of us, Herc included- we can go. We can leave."

Laf stood there, a moment of sobriety passing over them. For a moment, it looked like they were going to say yes- then their brows furrowed again. "You two are out of your minds... you won't last a day out there."

"I know someone in New York," Alex turned to John, grabbing his hands, "In New York, you can be a new man." John nodded- New York was always his dream.

Laf rolled their eyes, and slammed the door on their friends as the two began to pack.


	7. Chapter 7

Once Laf was downstairs, they stopped on the last step, leaning against the wall and letting the tears they had been holding back fall. They cried quietly for a moment, then wiped their eyes, glad they hadn't applied any mascara this evening.

They weren't boring... were they?

There were so many accidents tonight because of the storm, and traffic was hell. Angelica eased her foot a little harder against the pedal, getting dangerously close to breaking the law as she inched around people. Eliza's words ran through her brain as she thought of her husband.

_"You're a strong, independent woman, and you've got something to tell Thomas when you get home."_

"Oh, but how am I going to tell him?" she worried out loud, then shook her head. She would just outright say it: _Thomas, I want a divorce. That's it. We're through. There's no saving this._

It made her lower lip quiver a little, wondering what life would be like without him- she loved him, once. And he loved her.

Lafayette wiped their eyes, hoping they still looked presentable. After all... Thomas Jefferson was still alone, and Alexander was busy upstairs with John, he would never have to know.

"Monsieur?" Laf asked, coming around the corner. Thomas still sat on the couch in his tight purple shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Lafayette's eyes went down to the V of Thomas' lower stomach, and the southerner immediately rose, smiling.

"Lafayette, babydoll! You cold? You look awful chilly in those little shorts of yours..."

Laf's breath hitched. "Actually... I would like a little help to take them off." Thomas' pupils suddenly dilated, eyelids drooping slightly. He could feel himself getting hard just at the prospect of the gorgeous teenager, ready for him, offering themself to him like this. It also helped matters that Thomas was horny as fuck at the moment, and just thinking of sliding into Laf's slicked up hole until they both reached their satisfaction aroused him even more.

"Well, I think I just might be able to help you with that, lamb," Thomas smirked, and Laf pushed off the wall, slinking over and shoving themself into Thomas' lap, bringing them both down on the couch again. Inches apart, they breathed each others' breath until Thomas surged forward and captured the french teen's lips. "Mmm yeah," Thomas moaned into the kiss. Laf was wearing some kind of berry lip sugar, and it tasted divine- he couldn't get enough.

"C'est magnifique... s'il vous plais..." Laf whispered against Thomas' lips, and Thomas let out another groan. The french student let out a small smile, encouraged by the older man's reactions; he pulled away for a moment.

"Am I boring, Monsieur Jefferson?" Laf whispered, trailing a finger down Thomas' full lips. Thomas was lost in their eyes.

"You? _Boring_? Sugar... I could stare at you all day and never get bored." Thomas watched in awe Laf's lips part, and thought of how different it would feel to take a man again- he was so used to Angelica, and how it felt to be with his wife (back when he actually _touched_ his wife), that the prospect of having Lafayette was exciting him. Then he got to thinking of how naughty Laf was... all the guys they had sucked off, all the people they had fucked...

"You wanna hop on my lap, baby?" Thomas whispered, brushing a stray curl from Laf's face, "Wrap your legs around me and sit on my dick?"

Laf let out a shudder and a little breath, then blinked up at Thomas with doe eyes.

"Yes," they breathed, and Thomas gently grabbed their back, undoing the clasp at the back of their top and taking it off. Their chest was muscular, though not as muscular as Thomas' own- there were a few dark curls here and there, but still generally smooth. Thomas slowly turned them around, and eased down overtop so that Laf had their back on the couch, staring up at Thomas as he began to press lazy kisses down Laf's chest and stomach- the older man was so hard for them.

"So good... so good for me... so beautiful."

Laf's eyelids fluttered shut, back arching under the praise _. Yes. Yes they were beautiful. Thomas thought so. Everyone thought so._ Still... Alex's words rung in their head. Just as Thomas got to the top of Laf's denim shorts and prepared to pop the button with his teeth, Laf propped themself up on their forearms, inclining his head down nervously. This time, when they spoke, their voice had an innocent uncertainty that Thomas had never heard.

"Attendez... just so you know, monsieur Jefferson... this is my first time," they breathed shyly, cheeks heating up. The confession was made barely above a whisper, but Thomas heard every word, and he suddenly froze.

"Your first time... with an older guy?"

Laf bit their lip, swallowing. "M-my first time. Ever."

Thomas sat back on his heels in front of the couch, speechless. Laf grabbed a nearby pillow, clutching it in front of their bare chest, and cocked their head. "I just... wanted you to know... in case it wasn't as good as you imagined it would be."

Thomas looked at Laf... and began to shake his head.

"What is it?" Laf asked worriedly, lifting their hips up suggestively, "I thought you said I was beautiful."

Thomas regarded them. The young person before him, barely a year into adulthood, _was_ beautiful... one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. They also had their whole life ahead of them, including their first time with someone special- not Thomas.

"Come here," Thomas held his arms open, and Laf swallowed. "Come here." Suddenly, the french student had their arms wrapped around Thomas, holding onto him as they sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," they cried, sniffling, "I feel so stupid."

"Don't," Thomas murmured softly, "Hey, hey don't, darlin'. You're gonna find someone one day that'll love you like this every day. Kay?"

Laf sniffled again, and nodded reluctantly, and Thomas looked deep into their eyes, surpassing their lips to press a long, deep kiss to their forehead. "Let's get you a blanket and something to drink."  

Once the two were settled properly, Laf with a fuzzy blanket around their shoulders and both of them with beers, Thomas spoke again.

"How's Alexander doing?" he asked, looking up. "I probably shouldn't be asking his friend this, but... he never talks to me. Too busy writing, or hating me... or writing about hating me."

"He is good," Laf nodded, taking a sip of beer. Their eyes were puffy from crying, but they still managed to look like a beauty queen. "Lovesick, but good."

"Is he happy?" Thomas asked nervously.

Laf considered this, then nodded. "Oui, I would say he is."

Thomas nodded, taking a long sip from his own beer, and Laf got up, offering a small smile. "I've got to go to the bathroom."

"That way," Thomas smiled back, inclining his head down the hall, and let out a satisfied sigh as Laf trudged off.

In the darkened house next door, Henry knelt on the floor, holding his head. He pounded on the floor, wishing those damned images would just fucking _leave his mind._

_"After dark, when no one's watching."_

_"But I want you now-"_

_"Be smart about it, don't wanna get caught."_

"Ah," Henry cried, digging his nails into the seams of the hardwood.

_"Yeah, that's good... that's so good..."_

_"Glad you're enjoying it- so is the rest of the squadron!"_

_"W-what?"_

Henry got up, punching a wall so hard his fist broke through the plaster. His time in military school was not a period of his life he was proud of... especially being watched in bed with another boy by his entire troop, the boy he had feelings for no more than a pawn for their amusement.

Not this time. No son of his would turn out like that. It was wrong, and he wouldn't have some entitled, confused boy leading John down a path this far from morals and good values. A lesson needed to be learned here. Tonight.

A hand smashed through the glass of his collectibles' cabinet, grabbing something off of its place.

"How can we get there?" John was asking as he and Alex descended the steps.

"We can take a train. I've got money saved."

"Yeah, me too. I've got lots, you know I've got lots."

Thomas turned when he heard their voices, loose hair flopping around his shoulders. When he saw his son, he smiled a little, nodding. It seemed he and John were making some kind of plan to go off somewhere together, to leave... and he knew by the look in Alex's eyes that this would be the last goodbye.

"See you guys someday?" Thomas muttered, lifting his chin. Alex's mouth twitched a little, an emotion hard to pinpoint running across his eyes.

"Yeah," he breathed back, and smiled in return.

Just as the two reached for the door, the back screen flew open, and in stumbled a deranged man in a white shirt, brandishing an old collector's war pistol. Thomas' eyes widened as he saw the gun taking aim right at Alex, and time seemed to slow- he could hear John's loud shout, see the fear in Alex's eyes, and it was as if his body involuntarily thrust him out of his seat on the counter and forward... forward... stop.

Alex stared in shock down at the floor, where his dad lay bleeding all over the carpet. John covered his mouth, unable to process what had just happened until Alex turned, burying his face in John's chest and just _rocking_.

Henry Laurens shuffled backward, eyes wild, and ran, back to the house, dropping the gun and locking all the doors.

Laf came out of the bathroom, halfway through fixing their hair up in a tidier bun, and let out a scream upon seeing.

Angelica pulled up, wiping her hands on her skirt and rehearsing the line over and over in her mind. He would take it fine, he was a reasonable guy. They would part on good terms, be civil to one another, maybe even friends, who knows? And then, when things developed with Maria, the divorce would be the-

Angie dropped her purse, unable to move. She was rooted to the spot, her mind denying all the information her eyes were feeding her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "No, Thomas... my Thomas," she dropped to her knees beside him, getting them covered in his blood, "No... Thomas!! Come back, come... come back!"

"John," Alex whimpered into his boyfriend's embrace.

"Alex," John sighed, eyes closing. Thomas stared, unblinking... with a real, genuinely content smile left on his face for the first time in years.

* * *

**You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes as you die? It's true. The good times, the bad, the childhood memories in Virginia, my first love, my last love, my parents, my best friends, my job, my first time, seeing our baby for the first time, the last few crazy months of my life. All of it.**

**Yeah. I took a bullet for the kid... who'd have thought it?**

**The least I could've done was shave that morning... my goatee was seriously getting out of control, and with an open casket? Well... all I'm saying is, I could've looked hella better. Just look at that hair- makes me a little wistful, y'know? With hair like that, I could've been a rapper... hell, I could've been president!**

**Jemmy and Dolley came. John and Abi Adams came. Everyone in the shitty little town came. I never knew people thought so highly of me... maybe it's the fact that I thought so highly of myself, and it just rubbed off on everyone else.**

**Regardless if I was actually liked or people just missed my southern charm and flashy good looks, I died knowing full well that everything everyone was gonna be alright without me... even if I attempted to reverse the whole thing. But I couldn't undo it if I tried- and, I tried. Sure as shit, sugar, I may have missed a lot of things in my thirty four years, but one thing I never missed out on in life?**

**Living it.**


End file.
